"It's a pity to part flesh and blood, that's a fact," she admitted reluctantly. "But how you an' Jake is ever goin' to tame down them four wild things is more'n I can tell." "You send them to school," said the Duke of Wellington, as she arose to start for that institution herself, "and I'll answer for them the biggest part of the day." Mrs. Sawyer's face lightened. "Indeed we will, jist as soon as we can get them to settle down a bit. An' Jake says the boys'll help him in the mill, an' the girls'll help me in the house, an' we'll get along somehow." "Well," said Mrs. Munn, rising, and forestalling any further discussion, "there's no use talkin' about things, anyhow; that does more harm than good." The company arose and drifted toward the door. "D'ye think they'll be awful hard to bring up, Harriet?" whispered Mrs. Sawyer tremulously, detaining the doctor's landlady for a moment behind the others. Mrs. Munn looked steadily into Hannah Sawyer's kindly eyes. These two had been stanch friends since the days when they had sat together in school and shared dinner-pails. Only to this old comrade did Harriet Munn's reticent tongue speak out the deep thoughts of her heart. She laid her hand on Mrs. Sawyer's shoulder. "It's jist the Lord's hand that's led you, Hannah," she said quietly, "that's what it is, and you don't need to be afraid o' nothin'." Hannah Sawyer's homely face grew radiant. "That's jist what the minister said last night!" she exclaimed. "We'll jist do our best, an' I'm sure, with Jake an' the Lord to look after us, we ain't likely to come to want." CHAPTER V THE MILKSTAND CLUB He that sees clear is gentlest of his words, And that's not truth that hath the heart to kill. --ARCHIBALD LAMPMAN. The Cameron homestead could scarcely be said to belong to Elmbrook, but formed a suburb all by itself. It was a comfortable-looking red-brick, set away back in its orchards and fields, and was further cut off from the village by the ravine where the mill-stream ran.