"Our circle is broadening," said old Mr. Colesworth, at supper that evening. "Come! I have a three-handed counter for cribbage. Shall we take Mrs. Castle into our game, Mr. Bray?"

"If she will so honor us," agreed the girls' father, bowing to the little old lady.

"Well! that's hearty of you," said the brisk Mrs. Castle. "I'll postpone beginning knitting my son a pair of socks that he'd never wear, until to-morrow."

For she had actually brought along with her knitting needles and a hank of grey yarn. It grew into a nightly occurrence, this three-handed cribbage game. When Mr. Somers had no lessons to "get up," or no examination papers to mark, he spent the evening with Lyddy and 'Phemie. He even helped with the dish-wiping and helped to bring in the wood for the morning fires.

Fire was laid in the three chambers, as well as the dining-room, to light on cold mornings, or on damp days; Lucas had spent a couple more days in chopping wood. But as the season advanced there was less and less need of these in the sleeping rooms.

There were, of course, wet and gloomy days, when the old folks were glad to sit over the dining-room fire, the elements forbidding outdoors to them. But they kept cheerful. And not a little of this cheerfulness was spread by Lyddy and 'Phemie. The older girl's thoughtfulness for others made her much beloved, while 'Phemie's high spirits were contagious.

On Sat.u.r.day, when Harris Colesworth arrived from town to remain over Sunday, Hillcrest was indeed a lively place. This very self-possessed young man took a pleasant interest in everything that went on about the house and farm. Lyddy was still inclined to snub him--only, he wouldn't be snubbed. He did not force his attentions upon her; but while he was at Hillcrest it seemed to Lyddy as though he was right at her elbow all the time.

"He pervades the whole place," she complained to 'Phemie. "Why--he's under foot, like a kitten!"

"Huh!" exclaimed the younger sister. "He's hanging about you no more than the school teacher--and Mr. Somers has the best chance, too."

"'Phemie!"

"Oh, don't be a grump! Mr. Colesworth is ever so nice. He's worth any _two_ of your Somerses, too!"

And at that Lyddy became so indignant that she would not speak to her sister for the rest of the day. But _that_ did not solve the problem.

There was Harris Colesworth, always doing something for her, ready to do her bidding at any time, his words cheerful, his looks smiling, and, as Lyddy declared in her own mind, "utterly unable to keep his place."

There never _was_ so bold a young man, she verily believed!

CHAPTER XVIII

THE QUEER BOARDER

Spring marched on apace those days. The garden at Hillcrest began to take form, and the green things sprouted beautifully. Lucas Pritchett was working very hard, for his father did not allow him to neglect any of his regular work to keep the contract the young man had made with Lyddy Bray.

In another line the prospect for a crop was anxiously canva.s.sed, too. The eggs Lyddy had sent for had arrived and, after running the incubator for a couple of days to make sure that they understood it, the girls put the hundred eggs into the trays.

The eggs were guaranteed sixty per cent. fertile and after eight days they tested them as Trent had advised. They left eighty-seven eggs in the incubator after the test.

But the incubator took an enormous amount of attention--at least, the girls thought it did.

This was not so bad by day; but they went to bed tired enough at night, and Lyddy was sure the lamp should be looked to at midnight.

It was three o'clock the first night before 'Phemie awoke with a start, and lay with throbbing pulse and with some sound ringing in her ears which she could not explain immediately. But almost at once she recalled another night--their first one at Hillcrest--when she had gone rambling about the lower floor of the old house.

But she thought of the incubator and leaped out of bed. The lamp might have flared up and cooked all those eggs. Or it might have expired and left them to freeze out there in the washhouse.

She did not arouse Lyddy, but slipped into her wrapper and slippers and crept downstairs with her candle. There _had_ been a sound that aroused her. She heard somebody moving about the kitchen.

"Surely father hasn't got up--he promised he wouldn't," thought 'Phemie.

She was not afraid of outside marauders now. Both Mr. Somers and young Mr. Colesworth were in the house. 'Phemie went boldly into the kitchen from the hall.

The porch door opened and a wavering light appeared--another candle.

There was Harris Colesworth, in _his_ robe and slippers, coming from the direction of the washhouse.

'Phemie shrank back and hid by the foot of the stairs. But she was not quick enough in putting her light out--or else he heard her giggle.

"Halt! who goes there?" demanded Colesworth, in a sepulchral voice.

"A--a fr-r-riend," chattered 'Phemie.

"Advance, friend, and give the countersign," commanded the young man.

"Chickens!" gasped 'Phemie, convulsed with laughter.

"You'd have had fried eggs, maybe, for all your interest in the incubator," said Harris, with a chuckle. "So 'Chickens' is no longer the pa.s.sword."

"Oh, they didn't get too hot?" pleaded the girl, in despair.

"Nope. This is the second time I've been out. To tell you the truth," said Harris, laughing, "I think the incubator is all right and will work like a charm; but I understand they're a good deal like ships--likely to develop some crotchet at almost any time."

"But it's good of you to take the trouble to look at it for us."

"Sure it is!" he laughed. "But that's what I'm on earth for--to do good--didn't you know that, Miss 'Phemie?"

She told her sister about Harris Colesworth's kindness in the morning.

But Lyddy took it the other way about.

"I declare! he can't keep his fingers out of our pie at any stage of the game; can he?" she snapped.

"Why, Lyd!"

"Oh--don't talk to me!" returned her older sister, who seemed to be rather snappish this morning. "That young man is getting on my nerves."

It was Sunday and the Colesworths had engaged a two-seated carriage in town to take Mrs. Castle and Mr. Bray with them to church. There was a seat beside Mr. Somers, behind Old Molly, for one of the girls.

The teacher plainly wanted to take Lyddy, but that young lady had not recovered from her ill-temper of the early morning.

"Lyd got out of bed on the wrong side this morning," said 'Phemie.

However, she went with Mr. Somers in her sister's stead.

And Lyddy Bray was glad to be left alone. No one could honestly call Hillcrest Farm a lonesome place these days!

"I'm not sure that I wouldn't be glad to be alone here again, with just 'Phemie and father," the young girl told herself. "There is one drawback to keeping a boarding house--one has no privacy. In trying to make it homelike for the boarders, we lose all our own home life. Ah, dear, well!

at least we are earning our support."

For Lyddy Bray kept her books carefully, and she had been engaged in this new business long enough to enable her to strike a balance. From her present boarders she was receiving thirty-one and a half dollars weekly.

At least ten of it represented her profit.