ld, the
younger son, was married, and Mr. Theodore had an opportunity to go
abroad for a year.

The widowed cousin in Beach Street was married and went to Baltimore
with her two children. That left the two old aunts who owned the house
quite alone. Mrs. Whitney and Delia had taken turns staying with them.

The children were all sorry to lose Nora and Pussy Gray.

"People say it's bad luck to move a cat," said Nora, in her sententious
fashion; "but we don't believe in it. We've moved him twice already. And
you just put a little butter on his feet--"

"Butter!" interrupted the children, amazed.

"Why, yes. That's to make him wash his paws. If you can make him wash
and purr in a new place, he will stay. And then you must take him round
and show him every room and every closet. And you must come down real
often, Hanny. There's the lovely little park, you know. Aunt Boudinot
has a key. They're such nice queer old ladies, you'll be sure to like
them."

"I don't always like queer people," said Hanny, rather affronted.

"I don't mean cross or ugly. Aunt Clem has soft down all over her
cheeks, and such curly white hair. She's awful old and wrinkled and
deaf; but Dele can make her hear splendid. Aunt Patty isn't so old. Her
real name is Patricia. And Aunt Clem's is Clementine."

The children were not alone in regret. Ben was almost broken-hearted to
lose Mr. Theodore. The boy and the man had been such good friends. And
Ben was quite resolved, when he had served his apprenticeship, and was
twenty-one, to be a newspaper man and travel about the world.

Delia had told them quite a wonderful secret the day she came up after
some articles her mother had left. She had written some verses, and had
them printed unknown to any one. The. had said they were very fair. And
she had actually been paid for a story; and the editor of the paper
offered to take others, if they were just as good. She had changed her
check for a five-dollar goldpiece, which she carried about with her for
luck. She showed it to them; and they felt as if they had seen a
mysterious object.

Hanny was greatly amazed, puzzled as well. That a grown man like Mr.
Theodore should write grave columns of business matters for a newspaper
had not surprised her; she had a vague idea that people who wrote
verses and stories must needs be lovely. She pictured them with floating
curls and eyes turned heavenward for inspiration. It seemed to her that
beautiful thoughts mu