a while when he was in that vicinity.

Joyce then fell to planning how she could get into communication with
this Great-aunt Lucia. She couldn't _write_ her inquiries,--that
certainly would never do! If she could only visit her and get her to
talk about it! But Joyce had never visited this relative in her life,
and never particularly wanted to, and it would appear strange to seem
suddenly so anxious to see the old lady. This, however, was obviously
the only solution, and she began to wonder how it could be arranged.
Very prudently, she waited till her father had finished his pipe and
laid aside his paper. Then she commenced afresh, but casually, as though
the idea had just entered her mind:

"Great-aunt Lucia must be a very interesting old lady, Father!"

"She is, she certainly is! I was always very fond of her. My! how she
can talk, and the stories she can tell about old times!" said Mr.
Kenway, waxing enthusiastic.

"Oh, I _wish_ I could visit her!" exclaimed Joyce.

"Well, you certainly may, if you really want to. I've always wanted her
to see you since you've grown so, and I've proposed a number of times
that you go with me on the trip. But you've always refused to be
separated from your precious Cynthia, and I couldn't think of
inflicting _two_ youngsters on her." Joyce remembered now, with a good
deal of self-reproach, how many times she had begged off from
accompanying her father. It had not seemed very interesting then, and,
as he had said, she did not want to leave Cynthia, even for two or three
days. She realized now that she had not only been a little selfish about
it, but had plainly missed a golden opportunity.

"Oh, Father," she cried in real contrition, "I was mean to refuse you! I
didn't realize that you _wanted_ me to go. I thought you only did it to
give me a good time, and, somehow, it didn't seem like a good
time--then! When are you going again? And won't you take me?"

"I haven't been there in two years," he mused. "I _ought_ to go again
soon. The old lady may not live very long, she's so feeble. Let's see!
Suppose we make it the week-end before election. I'll write to her
to-morrow that we're all coming, you and Mother and I."

"Oh, but, Father!" exclaimed Joyce. "Couldn't we go sooner? That's
nearly a month off!"

"Best I can do, Duckie dear! I simply can't get away before. What's your
hurry anyway? First you won't be hired to go and see her, and then you
want to rush off and do it at on