AN ACCIDENT. 17

CHAPTER III.
AN ACCIDEN'.

HAT was in October, when the trees were
bright with leaves of gold or red, or beauti-
ful shades of brown. November and Decem-
ber passed, and the same trees were leafless,
but their bare branches sparkled in coats of
hoar frost one fine Sunday morning in January.
Every little blade of grass was iced over, and
the lattice windows of Croft Farm were orna-
mented with delicate shapes like trees and ferns
that vanished when Harry Maine breathed
upon them.

Mrs. Maine was pulling down Nellie’s jacket,
straightening a stray lock or two of her hair,
and putting those little finishing touches that
careful mothers like to add after their children
have made themselves ready for church or
school.

“Good-bye, darling,” she said, kissing the
fresh face turned up to her. “Take -eare of
Harry. You are his little mother, you know,

and you must teach him what I taught you—
(286) B