“You are right, uncle,” she said with marked deliberation.  “Libbie and I have indeed had every advantage that the best schools afford.  We ought to go to work and we will.  But—­” and her wistful gaze swept their beloved possessions indoor and out—­“it shall be here; not anywhere else.”

“What upon earth are you driving at?” spluttered Uncle Abner, while Elizabeth smiled acquiescence in the decision of the beloved older sister whose word had been law since their pinafore days.  Whatever the outlook she would stand by her.  “I’d like to know what you can do here!” went on their sage adviser, muttering audibly something about the “infernal nonsense of women folks.”

“I mean it, uncle.  I never was further from talking nonsense.  We will work here, on the old farm, and save our home from strangers, if you will only be patient and give us time.  I can take charge of the hands and the crops.  Elizabeth will manage the house and garden.  In fact I find myself longing every minute to begin.  It will be something to occupy us and divert us from gloomy thoughts;” and she glanced at the somber garments that told of recent bereavement.

“But you can’t stay here without a protector,” objected her uncle, getting downright wrathful as he felt inwardly conscious that he would be obliged to yield.  He had seen his niece Margaret have her own way more than once.  Still he must fight for it.

“You just take my advice and do what I said at first.  Let somebody take the place and work off the debt—­in a way, you understand.  You can look about for a music class, and Lizzie here can get a position in the public schools.  Of course you know you are welcome at my house as long as you need—­”

“Now, listen, uncle, do,” broke in Margaret, catching his arm with clasped hands, as a persuasive cadence crept into her resolute tones.  “I know I can learn to do what other women are doing all over the land.  Not so many Southern women, I grant you; we are a spoiled lot as ever lived, and are foolishly ashamed to work.  But we are no better than our sisters of the north and west, and I, for one, do not care a whit what people may think about it.  As to being afraid to stay here, that would be silly.  Why, I am not so very many years from thirty and Elizabeth is every bit of twenty-three.  Quite old maids, you see;—­bachelor maids, if you please.  The neighborhood is thickly settled; Rock and Don are the best watch dogs ever seen, and the men in the cabins with their families are faithful, you know.  The village is in sight, and the big farm bell can be heard a mile away.  Nobody will molest us.  I assure you we shall not be afraid; and last of all, I can handle a pistol as well as a man, if need be; and Libby is a terror with a hat pin!  Now do be good and let us try it.”

The brave girl had her way, no matter if Davis did want to add the four hundred acres of the Milford farm to his own fine estate.

The first year was not a bed of roses for the inexperienced young farmers, but they were not daunted.  A music class and a dozen pupils in belles-lettres helped out the income, and there was no inconsiderable revenue from the sale of milk, butter, eggs, fruit and vegetables.