pportunity of laying her summer plan before her mother and
father.

"There are acres and acres here that we never use at all. All that
wonderful land on both sides of the river up through the valley, and the
two islands besides. What I thought we could do was this, if you could
just let us girls manage it. Couldn't we start a regular tent colony? Jean
was telling me before she left about an artists' colony up in the
Catskills, where they have tents fitted up for light housekeeping, and I'm
sure we could do it here."

It had taken much argument and figuring on paper before the consent of
both was won, but Cousin Roxy approved of the scheme highly.

"Land alive, Elizabeth Ann," she exclaimed, heartily, "don't crush
anything that looks like budding initiative in your girls. I'd let them
put tents all over the place until it blossomed like the wilderness.
There's a stack of old furniture up in the garret at Maple Lawn and over
at Elmhurst, too, and they're welcome to it. Get some pots of paint in
and go to work, girls."

Kit acted immediately on the suggestion and drove up with Shad to look
over the collection of discarded antiques in the two garrets. What she
liked best of all were the three-drawer, old-fashioned chests and
hand-made wooden chairs. There were ewer stands also, and several old
single slat bedsteads.

"We're going to paint them all over, mother dear, in the loveliest yellows
and grays, and Shad says that it won't be any trick at all for him to
build the floors for us, and he says he can fix up little
hanging-cupboards like they have in the tea-rooms, don't you know, to hold
a few plates and dishes for light housekeeping."

"I don't see what else we're going to need," Helen put in, thoughtfully,
"except the finishing touches, and I can add those. They'll need some jars
for wild flowers and cushions and little things like that."

"Well, don't forget that they'll have to eat some time," Cousin Roxy
remarked. "Get some two-burner oil stoves and folding tables and camp
chairs, or if you want to be real rustic and quaint, have Shad here knock
some white birch ones together, and probably the city folks will admire
them more than anything you could buy. Lay in a stock of candles and
bracket lamps. I'd make them bring up their own bedding if I were you,
'cause that would be the only nuisance you'd have to contend with."

"It's too bad," Kit said, reflectively, "that we're so far away from any
kind of stores.