"He was, mother. I hope that he has gotten over it by now," laughed Helen. She clucked energetically and went on, "As you are with us tonight, we will pursue our usual humble way in the gutter. But," she declared emphatically, "when Virginia and I go driving we will take the middle of the road and keep it in spite of all the horn-blowing goggle-eyed men in the state of Maine. Archimedes shall not be insulted. His proud spirit rebels." They jogged along, the proud spirit of Archimedes being well content with a modest speed. Turning into a driveway, they ascended a slight incline and drove into a large barn. "This is my department," Helen told her cousin with pride as she unharnessed Archimedes. When he was safe in his stall she paused before the white face of a Holstein cow. "Cowslip," she giggled, "this is your cousin Virginia who has come to visit you." A door opened and Aunt Kate called, "Helen, bring your cousin in. Don't keep her out in that barn when she has a headache." So, with an arm about her cousin's waist, Helen guided her on her first trip along a Maine domestic pathway which begins in the stable, or even chicken house, and runs under one roof to the parlor. Virginia paused in a doorway that opened into a large oblong room. In its center was a great, square, brick chimney which divided it into a cosy kitchen forming a most convenient part of the dining room, and a dining room which was a most pleasant part of the kitchen. The low room with its old-fashioned paper, its white-curtained, square-paned windows and its painted floor, was delightfully homey and cheerful. It seemed particularly so to Virginia, with the motherly face of her aunt smiling a kindly welcome and the arm of her pretty blonde cousin drawing her affectionately towards its comfort. A few minutes later, with a bag in one hand and a candlestick in the other, Helen led her cousin up the stairs to the cosiest little bed room imaginable. Its low ceiling sloped with the roof except where broken by dainty curtained dormer windows. A mahogany four poster, a highboy and a table with some chairs constituted its furniture, while upon the floor were round rugs of woven rags. After Helen had departed and she had removed the traces of her journey, Virginia seated herself in a rocker for a moment. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The fear of the unknown, which had so terrified her, was gone. In spite of her sadness, when she thought of her father, she felt reassured and comforted. As the girl sat there, a tender dreamy look of indescribable sweetness crept into her face. Her lips moved and she whispered ever so softly, "Mother, your way is not so hard."