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 Babcock walked beside her, silent and grave. She seemed to him like some Joan with flaming sword.

When they reached the road that led to her own house, her eyes fell upon Jennie and Carl. They had walked down behind them, and were waiting under the trees.

“There's one thing more ye can do for me, my friend,” she said, turning to Babcock. “All the old things Tom an' I did togither I can do by meself; but it's new things like Carl an' Jennie that trouble me—the new things I can't ask him about. Do ye see them two yonder! Am I free to do for 'em as I would? No; ye needn't answer. I see it in yer face. Come here, child; I want ye. Give me yer hand.”

For an instant she stood looking into their faces, her eyes brimming. Then she took Jennie's hand, slipped it into Carl's, and laying her big, strong palm over the two, said slowly:

“Now go home, both o' ye, to the house that'll shelter ye, pl'ase God, as long as ye live.”