me to visit us in this way, and the yacht was kept in
the harbor a week or more, while we were all as gay as bobolinks and
went frisking about the country, and kept late hours in the sober old
Brandon house. My Aunt Mary, who was with us, and Kate's aunt, Mrs.
Thorniford, who knew the Carews, and was commander of the yacht-party,
tried to keep us in order, and to make us ornaments to Deephaven society
instead of reproaches and stumbling-blocks. Kate's younger brothers were
with us, waiting until it was time for them to go back to college, and
I think there never had been such picnics in Deephaven before, and I
fear there never will be again.

We are fond of reading, and we meant to do a great deal of it, as every
one does who goes away for the summer; but I must confess that our grand
plans were not well carried out. Our German dictionaries were on the
table in the west parlor until the sight of them mortified us, and
finally, to avoid their silent reproach, I put them in the closet, with
the excuse that it would be as easy to get them there, and they would be
out of the way. We used to have the magazines sent us from town; you
would have smiled at the box of books which we carried to Deephaven, and
indeed we sent two or three times for others; but I do not remember that
we ever carried out that course of study which we had planned with so
much interest. We were out of doors so much that there was often little
time for anything else.

Kate said one day that she did not care, in reading, to be always making
new acquaintances, but to be seeing more of old ones; and I think it is
a very wise idea. We each have our pet books; Kate carries with her a
much-worn copy of "Mr. Rutherford's Children," which has been her
delight ever since she can remember. Sibyl and Chryssa are dear old
friends, though I suppose now it is not merely what Kate reads, but what
she associates with the story. I am not often separated from Jean
Ingelow's "Stories told to a Child," that charmingly wise and pleasant
little book. It is always new, like Kate's favorite. It is very hard to
make a list of the books one likes best, but I remember that we had "The
Village on the Cliff," and "Henry Esmond," and "Tom Brown at Rugby,"
with his more serious ancestor, "Sir Thomas Browne." I am sure we had
"Fenelon," for we always have that; and there was "Pet Marjorie," and
"Rab," and "Annals of a Parish," and "The Life of the Reverend Sydney
Smith"; beside Miss