be here all summer when I offered to take care of the kidlets
for Mrs. McKittrick."

"Are you sorry?" asked Gloriana, glancing up from her sewing in
surprise at the tone of Tabitha's voice.

"No, oh, no!" she answered hastily, for fear her companion would think
she was complaining. "I don't regret staying here at all, for that was
the only way Mr. McKittrick could get well; but still--I should have
enjoyed getting a peek at the ocean again, and having a good time all
around, like we'd surely have had with Myra."

"Yes, that would have been lovely," sighed Gloriana, who could not help
feeling sorry that their vacation had not turned out as they had
planned, although she admired Tabitha more than ever because of the
unselfishness which had prompted her to shoulder such a responsibility
in the first place.

"You see, I never have spent the summer at the seashore," Tabitha
continued; "nor anywhere else, for that matter, except here in Silver
Bow, since we came here to live; and I had planned so much on Myra's
invitation. She is such a whirlwind for fun."

"It's too bad Miss Davis didn't let us know any sooner that she didn't
intend to come back to the desert till fall. Perhaps we could have
found someone else--"

"I'm afraid not. It's awfully hard to get anyone dependable away out
here. _Hired help_ is simply out of the question. They think Silver
Bow is beyond the bounds of civilization, I reckon."

"I don't blame them," began Gloriana impetuously; then blushed
furiously, and stammered, "Oh, what did I say? What will you think of
me? I didn't mean--"

"Yes, you did mean it," laughed her companion. "And I don't blame
_you_. I used to feel the same way myself."

"And did you _really_ get over it?" Gloriana eagerly asked. "Do you
truly like this--this desolate place now?"

"I _love Silver Bow_," she answered slowly, yet with emphasis. "I
sometimes wonder what kind of a girl I would have been if we had stayed
on at Dover or Ferndale, where there was no Carrie. Then there would
have been no Ivy Hall, either, I suppose."

"And no me," half whispered the red-haired girl. "Then I should be
thankful for the desert, too; because if it hadn't been for you, I
never should have been adopted by the best people in the whole wide
world, nor found an Uncle Jerry who really belongs to me. And anyway,
there will be other summers, and the ocean will keep."

"No, it won't, either!" thrilled a bubbling voice behin