There was a great stopping at Lois's door, as the girls walked past, for a bunch of the flowers she brought from the country, or posies, as they called them, (Sam never would take any to Jenny but "old man" and pinks,) and she always had them ready in broken jugs inside.

They were good, kind girls, every one of them,--had taken it in turn to sit up with Lois last winter all the time she had the rheumatism.

She never forgot that time,--never once.
Later in the evening you would see a man coming along, close by the wall, with his head down, the same Margret had seen in the mill,--a dark man, with gray, thin hair,--Joe Yare, Lois's old father.

No one spoke to him,--people always were looking away as he passed; and if old Mr.or Mrs.Polston were on the steps when he came up, they would say, "Good-evening, Mr.Yare," very formally, and go away presently.

It hurt Lois more than anything else they could have done.