STORM AND TROUBLE.


They turned homewards presently, and Sara, walking between the now
momently subdued Morton and Molly, heard her name called with a purity
of pronunciation so seldom accorded it in Killamet that she knew at once
who spoke.

"It's Miss Prue, children; run on home, while I stop and see what she
wants," she said, turning from them and passing through the little
gateway in a neat white paling fence at her side. Then she followed the
path to the door, as usual near the rear of the cottage, but here
prettily shaded by a neat latticed porch, over which some vines, now
bare of leaves, clambered, while a little bay-window close by was all
abloom with plants inside. Between the plants she caught a glimpse of a
smiling face, which presently appeared at the door.

"Good-morning, Sara. Come in a minute, child. I haven't seen you this
fortnight!"

Sara smiled up into the kind elderly face, around which a muslin cap was
primly tied.

"No, Miss Prue, I've been very busy getting the nets and father's
clothes ready; he's been expecting the start every day."

"Yes, I suppose so. What a fine morning for it! I've been watching them
from the skylight through my binocle; 'twas a brave sight!"

"Yes, beautiful, only that father is getting old for such hardships. I