Emily's reply was at first rather doubtful. She raised one objection
after the other, but Mrs. Barnes was always ready with an answer. It was
plain that she had looked at her plan from every angle. And, at last,
Miss Howes, too, became almost enthusiastic.

"I do believe," she said, "it may turn out to be a splendid thing for
you, Auntie. At least, I'm sure you will succeed if anyone can. Oh
dear!" wistfully. "I only wish it were possible for me to stay here and
help with it all. But I can't--I can't. Mother and the children need the
money and I must go back to my school."

Thankful nodded. "Yes," she admitted, "I suppose likely you must, for
the present. But--but if it SHOULD be a go and I SHOULD see plainer
sailin' ahead, then I'd need somebody to help manage, somebody younger
and more up-to-date than I am. And I know mighty well who I shall send
for."

They talked for a long time, but at last, after they were in bed and the
lamp was extinguished, Emily said:

"I hate to go back and leave you here, Auntie; indeed I do. I shall
be so interested and excited I shall scarcely be able to wait for your
letters. You will write just as soon as you have seen this Mr. Cobb,
won't you?"

"Yes, sartin sure I will. I know it's goin' to be hard for you to go and
leave me, Emily, but I shan't be havin' a Sunday-school picnic, exactly,
myself. From what I used to hear about Cousin Solomon, unless he's
changed a whole lot since, gettin' a dollar from him won't be as easy