strong resemblance to her dead mother that her aunt had no difficulty
in recognizing her. She stamped forward, nodded to Mr. Goldthwaite,
and held out a hand in turn to each of the children.

"I'm tired to death waitin' on these pesky cars," she said,
addressing herself to Mr. Goldthwaite. "I hope they've behaved
themselves, sir, an' not bothered ye.--Bless me, children, don't
stare at me so; I'm your Aunt Hepzibah. You look as if you had never
seen a woman afore."

"There is a trunk, Miss Hepsy," said Mr. Goldthwaite, unable to help
an amused smile playing about his mouth. "You will need to send a
cart for it.--They have been very good children indeed, and instead
of bothering, have greatly helped to make my journey enjoyable."

"I'm glad to hear it, I'm sure," said Miss Hepsy, looking very much
as if she was not glad at all. "Well, I guess we'd better be
movin'.--What's your name, boy?" she said, turning to the lad with an
abruptness which made him start.

"My name is Tom, aunt," he answered promptly; "this is Lucy."
"Miss Hetty might have called one of ye after her own kin.--Well,
good-day, Mr. Goldthwaite; I guess Josh'll walk down to the parsonage
at night an' pay up.--Come along."

"Good-bye, Tom, good-bye, Lucy, in the meantime," said the minister
kindly. "We shall see each other often, I fancy."

"Oh, sir, I hope so," said Lucy, speaking for the first time. "You
have been so kind to us when we had nobody else." Her dark eyes