“Yes; what’s ower and abune will be sufficient, wi’ what the potatoes, and cabbage, and a’ the ither crops o’ vegetables, and the fruits will bring in, to keep the pot boilin’ till anither harvest,” he remarked, reflectively. “Ye’ll win through, Miss Miriam; there’s promises to the widow and the fatherless, and the Lord’s aye faithful to His word.”
It was nearly dark when they reached Lakeside, but there was light and warmth in its cosey sitting-room, whither Miriam carried the satchel, while Sandy drove around to the stable and put up the horse.
The grandmother was dishing up the supper, Ronald keeping the little ones quiet with a story; but on Miriam’s entrance they left him, and ran to meet her with a shout of joy.
“Oh, sister, we’re so glad you’ve come home! We were ’fraid you’d got lost.”
“Were you?” she said, stooping to caress them in turn.
“Yes; we were beginning to be uneasy; it was growing so dark,” said her grandmother, filling the teapot and setting it on the table. “Come now, dears, tea is ready.”
“I believe the train was a few minutes behind time,” Miriam answered. “Grandmother,” and putting an arm round the old lady’s neck, she whispered in her ear something that brought a pleased, thankful look into the placid face.
Then going to the side of Ronald’s easy-chair, “The wheat sold well; so well that we shall be able to pay the interest on the mortgage and half the principal,” she said, in a low, joyous tone, leaning over him, her eyes shining and her cheeks dimpling with a glad smile.
“That is good news indeed!” he cried, his face reflecting the brightness of hers. “If we continue to prosper so, we’ll have the place clear in another year; also, I trust I may be able by that time to relieve you of at least a part of the burden of supporting the family.”
“Ah, it takes two to make a bargain; and I may not be willing to resign my sceptre,” she answered, gayly, as she threw off bonnet and shawl and took her seat with the rest at the table.