onderful things they would do when they reached the other side of
the world.

"It is almost too good to be true!" cried Sylvia, dancing along on the
tips of her toes. "Race me to the gate, Rumple, so that I may get some
of this excitement out of my brain, for I am sure that it can't be good
for me, and it will never do to fall ill at this juncture."

"I can't run; I'm thinking," replied Rumple, with a heavy frown. He was
finding difficulties at the very outset in his poem, because of the
seeming impossibility of finding any word which would rhyme with
Runciman.

"We will race you," shouted Don and Billykins together, and, dropping
the handle of the bath chair, they set off at full tear, while Sylvia
came helter-skelter after them, her long legs helping not a little in
overhauling the small boys, who had a distinct advantage by getting away
so smartly at the first.

Rupert and Ducky clapped, cheered, and shouted encouragements to all the
competitors, while Nealie and Rumple hurried the chair along so that
they might view the finish from a distance; and they all were too much
engrossed to notice a discontented lady who was approaching the drive
from a side alley, and who was not a little scandalized at the noise and
commotion caused by the seven in their departure.

The lady was Mrs. Runciman, and she walked on to the house, feeling very
much annoyed, her thin lips screwed into a disagreeable pucker and her
eyes flashing angrily.

"I thought that I told you I did not care to have those Plumstead
children hanging about the place," she remarked in an acid tone to her
husband, whom she met in the hall as she entered by the big front door.

"You will not see them here many more times. I am sending them out to
their father," he answered briefly, adding hastily: "I think that the
money Aunt Judith left behind her to be used for their benefit will
about cover the expense, and it will mean the solving of a good many
problems."

"I hope it will," she said as she turned away.

It had never occurred to her to look upon the seven in any other light
than that of a burden to be ignored, or got rid of as speedily as
possible. And because she did not like them, the children, as a matter
of course, did not like her.

They did not particularly care for Mr. Runciman, but he at least always
treated them properly, and they guessed that he would have been kinder
still if only Mrs. Runciman had permitted it.

But when he went back