"Yes," said Sarah.
"But aren't you afraid?"
"Ach, no! Nobody would do us anything," stammered Sarah. She could not tell this stranger any of their troubles.
"But haven't you a little brother?" Miss Miflin looked round the kitchen.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Sarah. She suddenly put out her hand, and laid it on Louisa Ellen's shoulder, and Louisa Ellen closed her lips as though she had meant to speak, but had changed her mind. "Yes, Albert. He is now by my uncle."
"And don't any of your uncle's people come to stay with you at night?"
"Ach, no!" answered Sarah. Suddenly she felt her voice give way. There was something in Miss Miflin's brown, astonished eyes which made her feel that she might cry. But that would never do. "T-take a ch-chair. I-I guess you had to laugh at how the twins learned their lessons. I taught them while they were at home."
"They learned them well," replied Miss Miflin. "Now I am going to help get supper."
The twins could scarcely believe their eyes. It was as though a fairy had come to the farmhouse, a dear, capable fairy, who could dry dishes and cut bread, and magically change tired, care-worn Sarah into the gay, cheerful Sarah of old. It was almost nine o'clock when Ellen Louisa turned from the window, against which she had been flattening her nose.