"You do look tired," rejoined Huldah, sympathetically. Her own
little body was aching all over, and she was so weary she could
gladly have lain down anywhere and slept, but it never occurred to
her to mention the fact. "Dick'll mind the garden, so don't you
worry about that."

"Can you sleep on the sofa, do you think?"

"Oh yes, ma'am!" cried Huldah, rapturously, gazing at the hard black
horse-hair covered thing as though it were the most luxurious couch
in the world.

"I'll give you my big shawl, to wrap yourself up in, and you can use
that cushion there for a pillow."

"Thank you, ma'am; but I think," she added, anxiously, "I'll run out
first, and see that Dick's all right. You can bolt the door after me
while I'm out."

Martha Perry did not do that, though. She stood there with the open
door in her hand, and watched almost affectionately the little brown
figure run down the garden path, and disappear in the gloom.

"Put Dick in the barn to sleep," she called after Huldah. "He'll be
nice and comfortable there;" but Dick, wise dog, was already there,
snugly curled up in the straw, and as happy as a dog could be.
The hens, too, had settled down to sleep again in their house, and
all was safe, so Huldah ran back again contentedly; and Martha Perry
welcomed her as gladly as though they were old friends, and when she
shut the door and bolted themselves in, it was with a sigh of relief