She stepped at once to his side as they entered the room, and gave him a sisterly embrace, making Dexie’s quiet “good morning” seem a cool greeting in comparison; there seemed a strange restraint between them that neither had felt before, which forbade any show of feeling on either side.  This was noticed at once by Mrs. Taylor, who was brightening up the fire, and she said: 

“Seems to me you haven’t such a warm welcome for your brother as your sister gives him, yet he has been inquiring very particularly after you.”

“He is not my brother, Mrs. Taylor.  I do not know how the mistake has been made, but we are no relation whatever.”

“Not your brother!  Then who are you, my dear?” smiling at Dexie’s blushing face.

“Lancy, introduce me properly,” and Dexie rose to her feet.

Catching the spirit of mischief that shone in her eyes, he stepped quickly to her side, and with a flourish made the introduction.

“Allow me to make you acquainted with our next-door neighbor, Miss Dexie Sherwood.”

Dexie bowed graciously to the several occupants of the room, who rose to their feet, and all embarrassment fled at once.

“Next-door neighbors those two may be,” was the whispered comment of the young girls who were stepping back and forth as they prepared the mid-day meal, “but there is every sign of a closer relationship in the future, if their looks do not belie them.”

But the only sentiment in Dexie’s heart was gratitude and love to a Higher Power.  As she turned the leaves of a music-book she had picked up from the table she passed the book to Lancy, saying in a low tone: 

“If I were home, I would like to sit down to the piano and play that.”

Lancy glanced at the page, and his eyes told her that he understood, for the words of the anthem to which Dexie referred began, “Out of the depths cried I, and thou, O Lord, hast heard.”

“Does the owner of these books play?” and Lancy turned to address Mrs. Taylor, a sudden thought like an inspiration coming to his mind.

“Only a little.  Our Susan is wild over music; but our little old piano is all she has to practise on, and during the winter she can only go into Halifax once a week for a lesson.  Susan, show them into the sitting-room, and perhaps Miss Sherwood will play something for us.”

As Dexie entered the room she took in at a glance the many pretty and tasteful things which adorned the walls and brackets, and she wondered if Susan’s fingers had accomplished such marvels in autumn leaves and other little adornments.

The fireplace was a thing of beauty, with its polished andirons, and the ruddy tongues of flame that leaped forth from the heaped-up wood made a cheerful picture.

Several big cushioned chairs were drawn near the hearth and a basket of knitting work was “handy” on a table, while in the old-fashioned rocker the family cat peacefully reposed.