Trembling with indignation, I exclaimed, “Oh, grandma, thou hast always told us that it is wrong to speak of the faults of a guest in the house, but what dost thou think of one who hath done what Mrs. Stein hath done?  I did say some of the things she told thee, but I did not say them in that way.  I didn’t give them that meaning.  I didn’t utter one unkind word against thee or grandpa.  I have not been false to thee.  To prove it, I promise to stay and take care of everything while thou goest and hearest what more she hath to tell, but after the home-coming, I leave.  Nothing that thou canst say will make me change my mind.  I am thankful for the home I have had, but will not be a burden to thee longer.  I came to thee poor, and I will go away poor.”

The Brunner conveyance was at the door on Tuesday morning when grandma and her guest came out to begin their journey.  Grandpa helped grandma and the widow on to the back seat.  While he was putting Johnnie in front with the driver, I stepped close to the vehicle, and extended my hand to grandma, saying, “Good-bye, don’t worry about the dairy while thou art gone, for everything will be attended to until thy return; but remember—­then I go.”

On the way back to the house grandpa asked why I did not treat the widow more friendly, and I answered, “Because I don’t believe in her.”  To my surprise, he replied, “I don’t either, but grandma is like a little child in her hands.”

I felt that I ought to tell him I should soon go away, but I had never gone to him with home troubles, and knew that it would not be right to speak of them in grandma’s absence; so he quietly went to his duties and I to mine.  Yet I could not help wondering how grandma could leave me in full charge of her possessions if she believed the stories that had been told her.  I felt so sure that the guilty one would be found out that it made me light-hearted.

Mrs. Blake came and spent the night with me, and the following morning helped to get the breakfast and talked over the cleaning that I wished to do before grandma’s return on the coming Saturday morning.  But

    God moves in a mysterious way
      His wonders to perform,

and unseen hands were shaping a different course for me!  I had the milk skimmed, and a long row of clean pans in the sunshine before time to hurry the dinner for grandpa and the three men.  I was tired, for I had carried most of the milk to the pig troughs after having finished work which grandma and I had always done together; so I sat down under the tree to rest and meditate.

My thoughts followed the travellers with many questions, and the wish that I might hear what Mrs. Stein had to say.  I might have overstayed my time, if the flock of goats had not come up and smelled my hands, nibbled at the hem of my apron, and tried to chew the cape of my sun-bonnet.  I sprang up and with a shout and clap of my hands, scattered them, and entered the log kitchen, reclosing the lower section of the divided door, to keep them from following me within.