ever.

"Hose supporters, dear child," corrected Ethelwyn with the exasperating
air that always roused Beth's wrath.

"This cottage," mother hastened to say, while she untangled the buckles
with one hand and buttoned Ethelwyn's waist with the other, "belongs to
Mrs. Stevens and her daughter, Dorothy. I have known them for years.
Recently they wrote asking me to bring you children and come to them for
the summer; they, too, were lonely, and they knew that I needed rest,
quiet, and time to plan for the future. There are few people living
here but fisher folk--"

"Christ's people?"

"Yes, like them in trade, at least. They are poor and need help--"

"Are we rich people now, and can we buy things for them?"

"Your grandfather left you a great deal of money, children, and you must
learn to use it generously. It was his wish, and mine, that you should
begin at once to think about such things before you learn to love money
for its own sake, and what it will buy."

"O, we don't care at all, do we, sister?" said Beth, stretching up on
tiptoe to get her "bawheady" from the bureau. "We'd just as lief give it
away as not, 'cause we've always you, mother dear."

"Is the money more than grandmother's gold dollar?" asked Ethelwyn.

"Much more."

"O, then we'll have fun spending it for folks; I'd like to. But, oh,
I'm hungrier than I ever was before."

"Me, too," said Beth. "I feel a great big appeltite inside me."

They decided at once that the dining-room also was charming, with its
cheery open fire of snapping pine knots, for the air outside was chilly.
Then, too, there was a parrot on a pole, who greeted them with, "Well,
well, well, what's all this? Did you ever?"

Miss Dorothy Stevens had the kind of face that children take to at once.
There never could be any question about Aunty Stevens, who laughed every
time they said anything, and who on top of their excellent breakfast,
brought them in some most delicious cookies--just the kind you would
know she could make, sugary and melty, entirely perfect, in fact,--to
take down on the beach for luncheon.

After breakfast was over they at once started for the beach. Sierra
Nevada, their colored nurse, following them with small buckets, shovels,
wraps, and cushions.

"Mother, this is the nicest place, and I love the Stevenses; but why are
they sad around the eyes, and dressed in black, like you? Has their
father gone to Paradise too?" asked Ethelwyn, as they walked alo