“There are three of us widows, whom he sustains and comforts for the loss of our husbands, and also the three Norton girls, cousins on his father’s side of the house, you remember.  It is impossible for them to look after their plantation since their father’s death robbed them of a protector, at least, even though he had been paralyzed since Gettysburg.  James is a most wonderful man, my dear—­a most wonderful man.  Though as he is my son I ought to think it in silence.”

“Indeed he is,” I answered from the heart.  “But—­but wouldn’t it be a little crowded for him to have another—­another vine—­that is, exactly what would he do with me?  I know Widegables is wide, but that is a houseful, isn’t it?”

“Well, all of us did feel that it made the house uncomfortably full when Sallie came with the three children, but you know Henry Carruthers left James his executor and guardian of the children, and Sallie of course couldn’t live alone, so Mrs. Hargrove and I moved into the south room together, and gave Sallie and the children my room.  It is a large room, and it would be such a comfort to Sallie to have you stay with her and help her at night with the children.  She doesn’t really feel able to get up with them at all.  Then Dilsie could sleep in the cabin, as she ought to on account of the jimsonweed in her phthisic pipe.  It would be such a beautiful influence in your lonely life, Evelina, to have the children to care for.”

I wondered if Cousin Martha had ever heard that galatea bunch indulge in such heartfelt oaths as had followed that train down the track last night!

“It would be lovely,” I answered—­and the reply was not all insincerity, as I thought of the darkness of that long night, and the Bunch’s offer of a place at her sturdy little back “next the wall.”

“But I will be so busy with my own work, Cousin Martha, that I am afraid I couldn’t do justice to the situation and repay the children and Sallie for crowding them.”

“Why, you couldn’t crowd us, Evelina, honey,” came in Sallie’s rich voice, as she sailed into the room, trailing the Pup and the Kit at her skirts and flying lavender ribbons at loose ends.  “We’ve come to help you move over right away.”

“Well, not while I have a voice in the affairs of my own husband’s niece!  How are you, Evelina, and are you crazy, Sallie Carruthers?” came in a deep raven croak of a voice that sounded as if it had harked partly from the tomb, as Aunt Augusta Shelby stood in the doorway, with reproof on her lips and sternness on her brow.  “Peter and I will have Evelina move down immediately with us.  James Hardin has as much in the way of a family as he can very well stand up under now.”

And as she spoke, Aunt Augusta glared at Sallie with such ferocity that even Sallie’s sunshiny presence was slightly dimmed.

“Are you ready, Evelina?  Peter will send the surrey for your baggage,” she continued, and for a moment I quailed, for Aunt Augusta’s determination of mind is always formidable, but I summoned my woman’s wit and man’s courage, and answered quickly before she fairly snatched me from under my own roof-tree.