ild, and
looked delicate, she thought; but Katy assured her that he was perfectly
well, and thin only because he had outgrown his strength.

It was one of the delightful results of Katy's "forehandedness" that she
could command time during those next two days to thoroughly enjoy Cousin
Helen. She sat beside her sofa for hours at a time, holding her hand and
talking with a freedom of confidence such as she could have shown to no
one else, except perhaps to Clover. She had the feeling that in so doing
she was rendering account to a sort of visible conscience of all the
events, the mistakes, the successes, the glad and the sorry of the long
interval that had passed since they met. It was a pleasure and relief to
her; and to Cousin Helen the recital was of equal interest, for though she
knew the main facts by letter, there was a satisfaction in collecting the
little details which seldom get fully put into letters.

One subject only Katy touched rather guardedly; and that was Ned. She was
so desirous that her cousin should approve of him, and so anxious not to
raise her expectations and have her disappointed, that she would not half
say how very nice she herself thought him to be. But Cousin Helen could
"read between the lines," and out of Katy's very reserve she constructed
an idea of Ned which satisfied her pretty well.

So the two happy days passed, and on the third arrived the other anxiously
expected guests, Rose Red and little Rose.

They came early in the morning, when no one was particularly looking for
them, which made it all the pleasanter. Clover was on the porch twisting
the honeysuckle tendrils upon the trellis when the carriage drove up to
the gate, and Rose's sunny face popped out of the window. Clover
recognized her at once, and with a shriek which brought all the others
downstairs, flew down the path, and had little Rose in her arms before any
one else could get there.

"You see before you a deserted wife," was Rose's first salutation.
"Deniston has just dumped us on the wharf, and gone on to Chicago in that
abominable boat, leaving me to your tender mercies. O Business, Business!
what crimes are committed in thy name, as Madame Roland would say!"

"Never mind Deniston," cried Clover, with a rapturous squeeze. "Let us
play that he doesn't exist, for a little while. We have got you now, and
we mean to keep you."

"How pleasant you look!" said Rose, glancing up the locust walk toward the
house, which wo