! Something must be done. Let me
see--let me put on my thinking cap. What is your name?"

"Marcella Langley."

The older woman dropped the lingerie waist she was pretending to
examine and stared at Marcella.

"You don't say! Look here, what was your mother's name before she was
married?"

"Mary Carvell."

"Well, I _have_ heard of coincidences, but this beats all! Mary
Carvell! Well, did you ever hear your mother speak of a girl friend of
hers called Josephine Draper?"

"I should think I did! You don't mean--"

"I _do_ mean it. I'm Josephine Draper. Your mother and I went to
school together, and we were as much as sisters to each other until
she got married. Then she went away, and after a few years I lost
trace of her. I didn't even know she was dead. Poor Mary! Well, _my_
duty is plain--that's one comfort--my duty and my pleasure, too. Your
sister is coming out to Dalesboro to stay with me. Yes, and you are
too, for the whole summer. You needn't say you're not, because you
_are_. I've said so. There's room at Fir Cottage for you both. Yes,
Fir Cottage--I guess you've heard your mother speak of _that_. There's
her old room out there that we always slept in when she came to stay
all night with me. It's all ready for you. What's that? You can't
afford to lose your place here? Bless your heart, child, you won't
lose it! The owner of this store is my nephew, and he'll do
considerable to oblige me, as well he might, seeing as I brought him
up. To think that Mary Carvell's daughter has been in his store for
three years, and me never suspecting it! And I might never have found
you out at all if you hadn't been so patient with that woman. If you'd
sassed her back, I'd have thought she deserved it and wouldn't have
blamed you a mite, but I wouldn't have bothered coming to talk to you
either. Well, well well! Poor child, don't cry. You just pick up and
go home. I'll make it all right with Tom. You're pretty near played
out yourself, I can see that. But a summer in Fir Cottage, with plenty
of cream and eggs and _my_ cookery, will soon make another girl of
you. Don't you dare to _thank_ me. It's a privilege to be able to do
something for Mary Carvell's girls. I just loved Mary."

The upshot of the whole matter was that Marcella and Patty went, two
days later, to Dalesboro, where Miss Draper gave them a hearty welcome
to Fir Cottage--a quaint, delightful little house circled by big
Scotch firs and overgrown with vines. Ne