“She didn’t like it no way at first,” the lad’s blue eyes twinkled, “but she got kind o’ used to it, an’ then I promised that when she growed big I’d let her be a girl. And whin the leddy that does the settlement work comed round and wanted me to go ter the country I couldn’t leave the kid, and when she said he could come too, I didn’t squeal on meself, but jest kept mumlike, for they wouldn’t have let her come wid me if they knowed she was a girl. Sure, marm, we’ll have ter wait till morning to go back,” the lad tried to steady his voice, “fur the boss wid the brass buttons on the train told me there ain’t no train till then. Can we walk to the station, do yer think?” he inquired pleadingly. “But you’re not going back, Danny,” replied Nathalie. “You’re going to stay right here with me, as long as you’re good and mind me. It doesn’t make a bit of difference if your sister is not a boy. I wrote for three boys, for I thought boys could take care of themselves in a way. Then, as we have no servants here, and I get tired sometimes with so much to do, I thought that boys would be more of a help. But we’ll dress your sister as a girl, and—Oh, don’t cry, Danny,” for the boy had turned his head aside, and was silently struggling with his sobs. But they were sobs of joy, as Nathalie soon discovered, as, with a final shake of his thin shoulders, he faced about and cried: “Oh, thank you, ma’am. No, I ain’t no blubberin’ calf, but sure I just couldn’t let the kid go back alone—and—But Gee, leddy, it sure is heaven up here with these big hills—and the green trees—and the flowers—And, leddy,” he pulled at Nathalie’s sleeve as she turned to go away, “I kin be a sight o’ help ter yer, for I knows how to wash dishes, and I kin cook too, a good bit.” “Oh, that will be just fine, Danny,” enthused Nathalie, “for I am wild to have a man chef, and I’ll let you wash all the dishes you want to, for that’s a job I hate. And, Danny,” said the girl, patting the boy’s shoulder gently, “we are going to make it as near like Heaven up here as we can. But come, son, you must be tired.” And then she led the boy up-stairs to the upper floor, where, in a large corner-room, she had taken the other boys, who were undressed and ready to tumble into the three beds. After directing Danny to sleep in the double bed, as he was the largest, so that each one of the smaller boys could have a bed to himself, she showed them the closet and how to hang up their clothes,—what little they had, they had brought tied up in handkerchiefs, or on their backs,—she turned to go. “Yes, and you must be sure to get up, _every one of you_, when you hear the big bell ring in the morning.”