"Well," responded the older girl, going back to the main subject, "the problem of how we are to cook when it comes warm weather is a very, very serious matter."
"We've just got to have a range--ought to have one with a tank, on the end in which to heat water. I've seen 'em advertised."
"But how can we? I've gone into debt now for more than thirty dollars' worth of commercial fertilizer. I don't dare get deeper into the mire."
"But," cried the sanguine 'Phemie, "the crops will more than pay for _that_ outlay."
"Somebody has to look ahead," sighed Lyddy. "The crops may fail. Such things happen. Or we may get no more boarders. Or father may get worse."
"_Don't_ say such things, Lyddy!" cried her sister, stamping her foot. "Especially about father."
The older girl put her arms about 'Phemie and the latter began to weep on her shoulder.
"Don't let us hide our true beliefs from each other," whispered Lyddy, brokenly. "Father is _not_ mending--not as we hoped he would, at least. And yet the hospital doctor told Aunt Jane that there was absolutely nothing medicine could do for him."
"I know! I know!" sobbed 'Phemie. "But don't let's talk about it. He is so brave himself. He talks just as though he was gaining every day; but his step is so feeble----"
"But, anyhow," 'Phemie pursued, wiping her eyes, her flurry of tears quickly over, as was her nature, "there is one good thing."
"He doesn't lose hope himself. And _we_ mustn't lose it, either. Of course things will come out right--even the boarders will come."
"We don't know that," said Lyddy, shaking her head again.
"How about the woman who wrote you a second time?" queried 'Phemie. "Mrs. Castle. I bet _she_ comes next week."
And 'Phemie was right in _that_ prophecy. They had Lucas meet the train for Mrs. Castle on Saturday, and 'Phemie went with him. There were supplies to buy for the house and the young girl made her purchases before train time.
A little old lady in a Paisley shawl and black, close bonnet, got out of the train. The porter lifted down an ancient carpet-bag--something 'Phemie had never in her life seen before. Even Lucas was amazed by the little old woman's outfit.
"By cracky!" he whispered to 'Phemie. "You reckon _that's_ the party? Why, she's dressed more behind the times than my grandmother useter be. Guess there must be places on this airth more countrified than Bridleburg."