bedroom."

"Guess there wan't many idees to give round to other folks after the
Lord made _her_!" exclaimed Bill Harmon to his wife as they went through
the lighted hall.

Gilbert, at the head of the procession, held Mother Hamilton's picture,
which had been taken from the old brick oven where "my son Tom" had
hidden it. Mother Carey's bedroom, with its bouquets of field flowers on
the wall paper, was gaily lighted and ready to receive the gift. Nancy
stood on a chair and hung the portrait over the fireplace, saying, "We
place this picture here in memory of Agatha, mother of Lemuel Hamilton,
owner of the Yellow House. Underneath it we lay a posy of pressed
daisies, buttercups, and Queen Anne's lace, the wild flowers she
loved best."

Now Olive took away a green garland covering the words "_Mater Cara_,"
that she had painted in brown letters just over the bricks of the
fireplace. The letters were in old English text, and a riot of
buttercups and grasses twined their way amongst them.

"_Mater Cara_ stands for 'mother dear,'" said Nancy, "and thus this room
will be full of memories of two dear mothers, an absent and a
present one."

Then Kathleen and Gilbert and Julia, Mother Carey and Peter bowed their
heads and said in chorus: "_O Thou who dwellest in so many homes,
possess thyself of this. Thou who settest the solitary in families,
bless the life that is sheltered here. Grant that trust and peace and
comfort may abide within, and that love and light and usefulness may go
out from this house forever. Amen_."

There was a moment's silence and then all the party descended the stairs
to the dining room.

"Ain't they the greatest?" murmured Lallie Joy, turning to her father,
but he had disappeared from the group.

The dining room was a blaze of glory, and great merriment ensued as they
took their places at the table. Mother Carey poured coffee, Nancy
chocolate, and the others helped serve the sandwiches and cake,
doughnuts and tarts.

"Where is Mr. Popham?" asked Nancy at the foot of the table. "We cannot
be happy without Mr. Popham."

At that moment the gentleman entered, bearing a huge object concealed by
a piece of green felt. Approaching the dining table, he carefully placed
the article in the centre and removed the cloth.

It was the Dirty Boy, carefully mended!

The guests naturally had no associations with the Carey Curse, and the
Careys themselves were dumb with amazement and despair.

"I've seen