time. But plainly her letter had not reached home. Perhaps the bad weather had delayed the mail-boy.
There was the light. She was not daunted when the bark of the old dog brought no one to the door. It might not be heard inside, for there was such a torrent of water falling somewhere close. Mechanically her mind located it. The tank near the house, fed by the spouts, was running over, cutting channels through the flower beds, and flooding the paths. Why had not mother diverted the spout to the other tank!
Something indefinite held her. Her mind went back to the many times long ago when she had kept alive the light while mother fixed the spout to save the water that the dry summer months made precious. It was not like mother, for such carelessness meant carrying from the creek.
Suddenly she grew cold and her heart trembled. After she had seen mother, she would come out and fix it, but just now she could not wait.
She tapped gently, and called, "Mother!"
While she waited she tried to make friends with the dog. Her heart smote her, in that there had been so long an interval since she
