e Bay Shore to gratify an old woman's
inconvenient whim. But I shall not burden you with too much gratitude,
for I think you have enjoyed yourself."

"Indeed, I have," said Frances heartily. Then she added with a laugh,
"I think I would feel much more meritorious if it had not been so
pleasant. It has robbed me of all the self-sacrificing complacency I
felt this morning. You see, I wanted to go to that picnic to see Sara
Beaumont, and I felt quite like a martyr at giving it up."

Grandmother Newbury's eyes twinkled. "You would have been beautifully
disappointed had you gone. Sara Beaumont was not there. Mrs. Kennedy,
I see you haven't told our secret. Frances, my dear, let me introduce
you two over again. This lady is Mrs. Sara Beaumont Kennedy, the
writer of _The Story of Idlewild_ and all those other books you so
much admire."

* * * * *

The Newburys were sitting on the verandah at dusk, too tired and too
happy to talk. Ralph and Elliott had seen the Governor; more than
that, they had been introduced to him, and he had shaken hands with
them both and told them that their father and he had been chums when
just their size. And Cecilia had spent a whole day with Nan Harris,
who had not changed at all except to grow taller. But there was one
little cloud on her content.

"I wanted to see Sara Beaumont to tell Frances about her, but I
couldn't get a glimpse of her. I don't even know if she was there."

"There comes Fran up the station road now," said Ralph. "My eyes,
hasn't she a step!"

Frances came smiling over the lawn and up the steps.

"So you are all home safe," she said gaily. "I hope you feasted your
eyes on your beloved Governor, boys. I can tell that Cecilia
forgathered with Nan by the beatific look on her face."

"Oh, Fran, it was lovely!" cried Cecilia. "But I felt so sorry--why
didn't you let me go to Ashland? It was too bad you missed it--and
Sara Beaumont."

"Sara Beaumont was at the Bay Shore Farm," said Frances. "I'll tell
you all about it when I get my breath--I've been breathless ever since
Grandmother Newbury told me of it. There's only one drawback to my
supreme bliss--the remembrance of how complacently self-sacrificing I
felt this morning. It humiliates me wholesomely to remember it!"

Elizabeth's Child

The Ingelows, of Ingelow Grange, were not a marrying family. Only one
of them, Elizabeth, had married, and perhaps it was her "poor match"
that