a bishop, or a boy.
There was a fascinating hole on top of his head, thus making it possible
to secrete things like medicine or food until they were fished out with
a buttonhook or darning needle. He was fed on cake now, but was
generally given crusts, when there were any, because Beth did not like
them.

"Why did you ask that question?" asked their mother.

"We thought you looked as though we'd made you an awful lot of trouble,"
said Ethelwyn, regarding the gorgeous ceiling of the car.

"Yes, you did, although I was not thinking of it just then; you ran
away--"

"Walked, mother," corrected Beth, "to the 'lectric car, with
grandmother's gold dollar, to go down to buy a trunk specially for our
dolls--"

"It was fun, mother," put in Ethelwyn, "only when we stood up and fussed
to see who'd push the button to get off, the man slowed up so fast we
both fell through a fat man's newspaper into his lap and upon his toes.
He was angry too, for he just said 'ugh,' when we asked him to excuse
us, please. The trunk man gave us back four big silver nickels with the
trunk; we put them inside, and you can have them, mother, to help heal
your feelings."

"Your mistake was in not asking--"

"We thought you'd better not be 'sturbed, 'cause ever since grandpa and
brother died, you've thought such a lot, and looked so worried--"

"But I was more worried about you when I found you weren't in the house
or grounds; I thought you might be lost, and I was about telephoning to
the police station about it, when you came, and there was just time to
catch the train."

Then Ethelwyn got down, and went over to squeeze in on the other side of
her mother. She knelt on the cushions and patted the dear face until the
little smile they loved, came out again, and drove the care lines away.

"Children are such a worry, mother," she said in a funny, prim fashion,
"that I should think you'd be sorry you ever bought us."

"But we are going to be good from now on, so good you'll nearly die
laughing," said Beth, getting up to pat her side of the face.

Their mother laughed now in a bright fashion they loved, and squeezed
them up tightly.

"No, no, chickens," she said, "I'm never sorry I bought you; you were
bargains, both of you, but I've had much to think of, and plan for, in
the last few months, and perhaps I've neglected you somewhat."

"Can you tell us 'bout things, mother?" asked Ethelwyn. "P'raps we could
help some."

"Yes, I am going t