independence, Nancy so decided it. She was firm in declining the
hospitable offers that would have scattered the Bradleys among the
neighbouring homes for the night.

"No, no--we're all together," Nancy said, smiling. "I don't want
to separate again, for a while." She calmly estimated the salvage-
-beds and bedding, some chairs, rugs, and small tables, tumbled
heaps of the children's clothes, and odd lots of china and glass.

Priscilla was presently set to amuse herself, on a rug on the
lawn, and the enraptured children and Agnes and the new puppy
bustled joyfully about among the heterogeneous possessions of the
evicted family, under Nancy's direction. There was much hilarity,
as the new settling began, the boys were miracles of obedience and
intelligence, and Anne laughed some colour into her face for the
first time in weeks. Nancy was in her element, there was much to
do, and she was the only person who knew how it should be done.
Even Bert stood amazed at her efficiency, and accepted her orders
admiringly.

In the exquisite summer twilight she sent him to the
Biggerstaffs'. Nobody had yet found sleeping wear for the man of
the family, that was message one. And message two was the grateful
acceptance of the fresh milk that had been offered. Everybody he
met wanted to add something to these modest demands. Bert had not
felt himself so surrounded with affection and sympathy for many
years. At seven o'clock he was back at the garage, heavily laden,
but cheerful.

Nancy leaned out of the upper window, where geraniums in boxes