Presently Mrs. Estel came in and drew a low rocking-chair up to the
fire. Steven slipped from his place by Robin's pillow and sat down on
the rug beside her.

Sitting there in the fire-light, she told him all about her visit to
the Piersons. They had found Robin so unmanageable and so different
from what they expected that they were glad to get rid of him. Mr.
Estel had arranged matters satisfactorily with the Society, and they
had brought Robin home several days ago.

"I had a long talk with Mr. Dearborn the other day," she continued.
"He said his wife's health is failing, and their son is trying to
persuade them to break up housekeeping and live with them. If she is
no better in the spring, they will probably do so."

"Would they want me to go?" asked Steven anxiously.

"It may be so; I cannot tell."

Steven looked up timidly. "I've been wanting all day to say thank you,
the way I feel it; but somehow, the right words won't come. I can't
tell you how it is, but it seems 'most like sending Robin back home
for you and Mr. Estel to have him. Somehow, your ways and everything
seem so much like mamma's and papa's, and when I think about him
having such a lovely home, oh, it just seems like this is a
Thanksgiving Day that will last _always_!"

She drew his head against her knee and stroked it tenderly. "Then how
would you like to live here yourself, dear?" she asked. "Mr. Estel
thinks that we need two boys."