down when I ran out-doors. I remembered it by the time we reached our
playhouse, so I set it down there and that's where I found it now."

"Janie wasn't lost," interrupted that small maiden in drowsy tones.
"Me went to get a letter."

"To get a letter!" chorused her sisters. "Where?"

"To the store where Mercy goes. A man dave me one, too," she finished
triumphantly, squirming down from her high chair to search about the
room for the missing epistle, while the rest of the family forgot both
pie and gingerbread in joining in the hunt. Rosslyn found it at last
under the stove where it had fallen when Janie began her investigation
of the oven; and the girls exclaimed in genuine surprise, "Why, it _is_
a real letter!"'

"Addressed to mamma," said Mercedes, "Do you suppose Janie really went
to the post-office all alone?"

But Janie was fast asleep in her chair where she had retired when
convinced that Rosslyn had actually found her precious letter; so the
sisters once more bent curious eyes upon the soiled envelope.

"Better re-address it to your mother," suggested Tabitha, remembering
that in her written instructions, Mrs. McKittrick had failed to mention
the matter of mail which might come to Silver Bow for her.

"Mamma told me to open all her letters, and not even to send papa's to
Los Angeles, unless 'twas something _very_ important."

"Then why don't you open it?" cried Susanne impatiently.

"And see who wrote it," added Inez.

"I--I--guess I will." Deliberately she tore open the envelope, spread
out the brief letter it contained, and with a comically important air,
read the few short lines. Then beginning with the heading, she read it
the second time, her face growing graver at each word, until impatient
Inez could stand the strain no longer, and burst out, "Well, what's it
all about? Does it take you all night to read that teenty letter?"

"It's from Aunt Kate, Uncle Dennis' wife," Mercedes slowly retorted.
"She is going to Europe for something, and wants to send the boys out
here to us."

"Williard and Theodore?"

"Yes."

"But how can they, with papa hurt and mamma gone?"

"She says that they will pay good board and she knows mamma will be
glad enough to get the money, seeing that papa's still unable to work."

Tabitha's face darkened. "It's an imposition!" she exploded wrathfully.

"I sh'd say so!" agreed Susanne. "They are dreadful noisy boys. We
had 'em here once before, and Aunt Kat