Sarah looked at her dully. She had no idea of what Miss Miflin meant to do. The children vanished with whoops of delight over the unexpected holiday. "Now, Sarah, we are going to town." "To town! To the _county seat_?" "Yes." "But--but I have no money!" "Well, I have." "But I--I cannot leave the twins!" "They are to come too." "In these clothes?" Sarah had never been to the county seat but once, and then she had worn her best. "Yes. There isn't time to get any others." While Miss Miflin spoke, she locked the door of the schoolhouse, and took Sarah's arm in hers. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked anxious and worried. She was perfectly aware that it was probably a fruitless errand upon which she was starting. Before they could get to the county seat, the appointment might be made. And even if they did get there in time, she was not sure whether anything could be done. If they failed, it might not only make it harder for the children, but she might lose her school. Daniel Swartz was a man of influence and a school-director, and he could easily prevent her re-election if he tried. Nevertheless, in spite of all the dictates of reason and common sense, Miss Miflin had an inward conviction that she was right. She knew vaguely that there had been some trouble between the Swartz and Wenner families, and that Henry Wenner would never have chosen his brother-in-law to be guardian of his children. Surely that would have some weight with the judge! If Sarah could only be led to talk, if she could make the judge believe that she was able to run the farm and look after the children, he might, as Sarah had said, be willing to "let her try." And deep in Miss Miflin's heart was the remembrance of Sarah's anguished cry, "If William comes home, he won't have any place to go." [Illustration: THE STATION AGENT LOOKED AT THEM CURIOUSLY] If William came home! Miss Miflin sighed for some of the childish affection which followed thoughtless, wandering William. Suppose that he should come home, ill, penniless, where would he go? Miss Miflin drew Sarah's hand a little closer within her arm. "Cheer up, Sarah," she said. "We'll win." Even the station agent, accustomed to provincial costumes, looked at them curiously as they got on the train. Miss Miflin wore her school suit and hat,--no one could have found fault with them upon the grounds of suitability or becomingness. But Sarah and the twins, in their striped shawls and sunbonnets, were very unlike what one would have expected Miss Miflin's companions to be.