o, but not now, for the porter wishes to make up our
beds."

"There are stickers in my eyes," said Beth, yawning. "There's one more
question I'd like to know about though," she said as they moved across
the aisle. "If God can't make mistakes, why does He let it be so easy
for folks to?"

"That I don't just know," said her mother, "but it's a good sign when we
know they are mistakes."

It was only a short time after this that they were all asleep in their
curtained beds, and while it was still dark, and the children were too
sleepy to realize much about it, they reached their destination and were
driven to the seashore, cottage where they were to spend the summer.

_CHAPTER II_
_At the Shore_

Underneath the washing waves
The requiem of the sea,
For those whose hopes are buried there,
Is tolling ceaselessly.

It was interesting to go to sleep in a Pullman car, and to wake up in a
dainty room hung with rosebud chintz draperies, and with an altogether
delightful air of coziness about it.

But there was something outside their room that, like a magnet, drew
them out of bed. They climbed on chairs, and gazed eagerly out of the
windows.

The house they were in, was on a hill. Pine trees grew near, and there
below them and very near, was the great silvery blue sea, with the
sunshine flashing on its tossing waves? The children gasped with
delight.

"It's another door to Paradise," said Ethelwyn.

"The gold place that shows where the sun sets is another one," said
Elizabeth. Then they heard their mother, who had come in quietly, and in
a moment was cuddling them up in her arms.

"We've lost a lot of time, I'm afraid," said Ethelwyn after they had
given her a bear hug and a kiss.

"That ocean is the prettiest thing, mother. P'raps that's the way to
Paradise where father and grandfather and brother have gone."

"Yes," said their mother, helping them into their clothes. "It is one of
the ways."

"Tell us about this place, please," begged Ethelwyn, "and how we
happened to come to such a de-lic-ious place. Will you have to work so
hard, motherdy, here? And will the little lines come between your eyes?"
Whereupon Elizabeth at once abandoned to their fate, her harness garters
with their many buckles, and climbed up to see. Yes, the lines had gone,
and she kissed the place to make sure before she climbed down again.

"Hoty potys is the twissedest things," she remarked, worse tangled than