As Rose glanced from one to another she recalled the day when homeless and friendless she had sat in that same room and waited, with a hungry hope in her heart, for the decision that meant so much to her; the misery and uncertainty of further wandering, or the happiness and security of a shelter and abiding-place. There had been a great change since then. Now she had Great-Uncle Samuel to vouch for her; she was no longer an unknown and half-suspected applicant for charity, but ready and able to pay for what she had. But so dear had that home, and those within it grown to Rose, with such a dread did she shrink from the thought of being thrust out again among strangers that not even on that first time, it seemed to her, did she wait the answer more eagerly. As often happened, impulsive Silence was the first to speak. “For my part, I should be only too glad to have Rose stay with us, and I will do all I can to make her happy here.” “I’m sure,” it was Mrs. Patience’s gentle voice, “Rose has won for herself a place in our home, that would be vacant without her.” It was a moment longer before Mrs. Blossom spoke, and when she did there was a quiver in her usually firm, self-controlled tone, “Yes, I will keep Rose, and I will do for her just as I would have done for my own little Rachel if she had lived.” Grandmother Sweet, sitting in her rocker with the sunshine falling across her snowy hair and serene face, laid down her knitting, whose subdued click, click, seemed like her own quiet personality to pervade the room, “I feel it borne on my mind, Elizabeth, that thee will never regret the word thee has just given.” And then to Mr. Jarvis, “Thee need feel no concern for the child, for while Silence and Patience in the tenderness of their hearts would, I fear, wholly spoil her, their mother will be heedful of her duty to guide and train. And truly it will be a pleasure to us all to have this little one of the dear Lord set in our midst.” “Thank you, madam,” and Great-Uncle Samuel made a deferential bow to her; “I shall go away with my mind at ease. “And now,” to Rose, “if I leave you with these kind ladies I shall expect you to be good and obedient in return for all they do for you.” “I’ll try to be,” was Rose’s dutiful answer. “That’s right, that’s right. I hope you always will remember to. Young people are very apt to think they know it all when they haven’t the first idea what’s for their good. I’m glad you look like your mother, and hope you will have all her good qualities, but I want you to remember the trouble she brought on herself and all who cared for her just by wilfulness. I believe that settles everything. Four dollars, I was told, is the average price for board here; if that is satisfactory a check will be sent you every three months, for that and Rose’s expenses. But mind,” turning to Rose, “you must be very prudent to make the money last.”