serve in such a crisis as this.

So, I let Cousin James pack me into his low, prehistoric old surrey, in
the front seat, at his side, while Sallie took Aunt Dilsie and one twin
with her on the back seat. Henrietta scrouged down at my feet, and I
fearingly, but accommodatingly, accepted the other twin. It was a
perfect kitten of a baby, and purred itself to sleep against my shoulder
as soon as anchored.

The half-mile from the station, along the dusty, quiet village streets,
was accomplished in about the time it would take a modern vehicle to
traverse Manhattan lengthwise, and at last we stopped at the gate of
Widegables. The rambling, winged, wide-gabled, tall-columned old pile of
time-grayed brick and stone, sat back in the moonlight, in its tangle of
a garden, under its tall roof maples, with a dignity that went straight
to my heart. There is nothing better in France or England, and I feel
sure that there are not two hundred houses in America as good. I'll
paint it, just like I saw it to-night, for next Spring's Salon. A bright
light shone from the windows of the dining-room in the left wing, where
the collection of clinging vines were taking supper, unconscious of the
return of the left-behinds that threatened.

And as I glanced at my own tall-pillared, dark old house, that stands
just opposite Widegables, and is of the same period and style, I knew
that if I did not escape into its emptiness before I got into Cousin
Martha's comfortable arms, surrounded by the rest of the Crag's family,
I would never have the courage to enter into the estate of freedom I had
planned.

"Sallie," I said firmly, as I handed the limp Kitten down to Aunt