ehind Mrs. Ford's oleanders she came around the house.

Indignant tears were in her eyes; it was hard not to be wanted, to be
thought too little to play with. Bess and Louise had such good times
with the boys and she had nothing in the world to do this afternoon.
To be sure they had been very gracious all morning, and had even
allowed her to listen to a thrilling chapter in the history of the
Carletons, but this was too good to last.

At lunch certain signs passed back and forth across the table arousing
her curiosity, and afterwards when she found them laughing on the
stairs and begged to know what they were going to do, Carl had replied
provokingly, "What do you suppose?" and now they had run away with
Ikey somewhere. The house was very quiet; Carie was taking her nap,
Aunt Zelie dressing to go out. Helen sat down on the top step of the
porch and wiped her eyes, saying to herself, "They are just as mean
as anything, but I don't care--I'll have a good time too. I think I'll
ask Aunt Zelie to let me go with her."

It happened that as the runaways reached the gate Aunt Marcia's coupe
turned the corner, and her horrified eyes beheld their flight. When
she stepped from her carriage her lips were firmly closed in a manner
which indicated that they would be opened presently for somebody's
benefit. She was so absorbed that she almost fell over the woebegone
little figure on the step.

"You have been crying--what is the matter?" she demanded.

"Oh, Aunt Marcia, I didn't see you--please excuse me," said Helen,
whose politeness rarely failed her, rising and putting away her
handkerchief. Mrs. Hazeltine saw pretty clearly how matters stood.

"Never mind, my dear," she said; "perhaps you would like to take a
drive with me. I am going out to Cousin John's."

Helen was her favorite among the children, because she was quiet and
demure, and did not tear and soil her clothes as Bess and Louise did.
Helen on her part looked up to Aunt Marcia with deep admiration, and
meant to be just like her when she was grown. So she ran off very
happily to have her dress changed, while Mrs. Hazeltine waylaid Aunt
Zelie as she came downstairs ready for a walk.

"Dear me! the children have been in mischief," was this lady's inward
exclamation, for she knew the signs of disapproval, and felt like
running away, as she used to do when a child, from Sister Marcia's
lectures.

She only sat down on the bottom step, however, and waited.

"How do y