"But what will you do?" asked Mrs. Blossom, her kind eyes filling
with tears as she pictured the ruined little shack on the island.
"Don't go back there and try to live, Mr. Harley--it will only
make you ill again. You know Mrs. Harley isn't there, and I can
not bear to think of you there alone."

"I'll stay to-night in Pomona," said Mr. Harley slowly. "Then I'll
go on to Sunset Lake and put up a while with Chris Smith; he owns
a boathouse and I can earn my keep taking folks about the lake.
I'll be on the spot then if she should come back or if any one
comes with news of her. And if your sister knows where she went--"

"We'll ask her to-night and tell you as soon as we reach Sunset
Lake," promised Mother Blossom heartily.

The rest of the drive was accomplished almost in silence, Mr.
Harley busy with his own brooding thoughts and the Blossoms
anxious not to annoy him. When they reached the town of Pomona,
they left him at the post-office, where he said Joe Gates was
always to be found. Another five miles brought the Blossoms to
Brookside Farm.

"There's Foots!" shouted Twaddles, standing up on the seat and
waving to Aunt Polly, who came flying down the drive.

"And Linda!" cried Meg.

"And Jud! And Peter Apgar!" shrieked Bobby.

"My darling lambs!" babbled Aunt Polly, almost beside herself with