As the numbers of the boarders increased, however, Lyddy did not find that the profit increased proportionately. She was now handling fifty-one dollars and a half each week; but the demands for vegetables and fresh eggs made a big item; and as yet there had been no returns from the garden, although everything was growing splendidly. The chickens had hatched--seventy-two of them. Mr. Bray had taken up the study of the poultry papers and catalogs, and he declared himself well enough to take entire charge of the fluffy little fellows as soon as they came from the shell. He really did appear to be getting on a little; but the girls watched him closely and could scarcely believe that he made any material gain in health. With Harris Colesworth's help one Saturday, he had knocked together a couple of home-made brooders and movable runs, and soon the flock, divided in half, were chirping gladly in the spring sunshine on the side lawn. They fed them scientifically, and with care. Mr. Bray was at the pens every two hours all day--or oftener. At night, two jugs of hot water went into the brooders, and the little biddies never seemed to miss having a real mother. Luckily Lyddy had chosen a hardy strain of fowl and during the first fortnight they lost only two of the fluffy little fellows. Lyddy saw the beginning of a profitable chicken business ahead of her; but, of course, it was only an expense as yet. She could not see her way clear to buying the kitchen range that was so much needed; and the days were growing warmer. May promised to be the forerunner of an exceedingly hot summer. At Hillcrest there was, however, almost always a breeze. Seldom did the huge piles of rocks at the back of the farm shut the house off from the cooling winds. The people who came to enjoy the simple comforts of the farmhouse were loud in their praises of the spot. "If we can get along till July--or even the last of June," quoth Lyddy to her sister, "I feel sure that we will get the house well filled, the garden will help to support us, and we shall be on the way to making a good living----" "If we aren't dead," sighed 'Phemie. "I _do_ get so tired sometimes. It's a blessing we got Mother Harrison," for so they had come to call the widow. "We knew we'd have to work if we took boarders," said Lyddy. "Goodness me! we didn't know we had to work our fingers to the bone--mine are coming through the flesh--the bones, I mean." "What nonsense!" "And I know I have lost ten pounds. I'm only a skeleton. You could hang me up in that closet in the old doctor's office in place of that skeleton----" "What's _that_, 'Phemie Bray?" demanded the older sister, in wonder. 'Phemie realized that she had almost let _that_ secret out of the bag, and she jumped up with a sudden cry: "Mercy! do you know the time, Lyd? If we're going to pick those wild strawberries for tea, we'd better be off at once. It's almost three o'clock."