Mrs. Grahame; "but I don't think
she paid much attention; you may as well tell her over again."

"Well, I was so excited, you see!" cried the girl. "I have been having
the most wonderful time in town; and then to come out here and find
you,--my cup is rather brimming over, that's all. Now tell, Jerry."

"We came," said Gerald, curling up his long legs on the hearth-rug; "we
have seen--several things; we expect to conquer--shortly--the dust, and
to get the house to rights. Our holidays--Ferguson's and mine--began on
Saturday, so the Mater thought we'd better come right down and get
things ready for the others. Then she reflected that she could not trust
us; so she decided to come herself; then she further reflected that she
could not possibly leave the kids alone with the Pater, so she brought
them along. Behold us! Bell and Toots arrive next week, and the Codger
at some time known to himself. He is in Arizona, or somewhere this side
of it,--sent for to inspect a mine, and see whether it is a good place
for planting cabbages."

"Gerald!" said Hildegarde.

"Honoured miss!" replied the boy. "I may not be quite accurate in the
details, but there is a mine, I do assure you."

"And what kind of winter have you all had? You have been in Boston all
the time,--that is, your mother and father?"

"In Boston, yes. The winter has been such as might have been expected,
far from the sun which etcetera. Barring the fact that we have all
existed in a state of acute anguish at being separated from you, we have
all been exceedingly well, thank you."

"And how do you and Phil like college? Is it as much fun as you thought
it would be? Do you like your rooms? Are you doing all right in your
Greek?"

"Hilda," put in Mrs. Grahame, "do let the boy draw breath, and allow
yourself to do so. Two such panting young creatures I have seldom seen.
And Gerald is not going away on the night train."

"I suppose not!" said Hildegarde. "But, oh, it does seem so long since I
have heard anything about him and Phil. Bell, you see, writes the most
enchanting letters, but they are mostly about college and music,--her
college, I mean; and she tucks in a little postscript to say that all
are well at home, and that is all the news I get."

"Which accounts for your pallid and emaciated appearance!" said Gerald.

"'Thy cheek, my love, of late a living rose,
Which could the bulbul cheat with its rich hue,
Looks pal