ar.

"Gee! but I'm glad to see you," cried Charlie. "It hasn't seemed like
home at all without you, mother."

"Didn't you have a good time at Mrs. Porter's?" asked Edna.

"Had a high old time," responded Frank. "Here, let me take some of those
things. You look like country travellers with all those bundles. What
you got there?"

"Oh, things," returned Edna vaguely. "All sorts of things the girls gave
me to bring home."

"You look like a regular old emigrant with so many boxes and bags."

"We couldn't get them all in the trunk," Edna explained, "and so we had
to bring them this way. When did you get back, Frank?"

"Last night. We came home with father."

"Then you haven't had such a very long time in which to miss us," said
Mrs. Conway, with a smile.

"Well, it seemed like a long time," returned Frank, "Nothing ever does
go right when you're away, mother."

"What special thing has gone wrong this time?" asked his mother.

"Oh, I couldn't find anything I wanted this morning, and nobody knew
where anything was, and Celia didn't know how to fix anything, and all
that."

Mrs. Conway laughed. "That shows how I spoil you all. I am afraid I
missed my boys, too, and am glad to get back to them."

"Where's Celia?" asked Edna.

"She's home. We all came up together last night. Lizzie had waffles for
supper, and Frank ate ten pieces," spoke up Charlie.

"Well, that was all I could get," said Frank, in an injured way. "Lizzie
said there were no more."

"Oh, Frank, Frank," laughed his mother. "Well, at any rate, I am glad
to know my absence has not affected your appetite."

"Tell us what you did at the Porter's," said Edna.

"Oh, we just racketed around. We went to a fierce old football game, and
we did all sorts of stunts in the house. Steve and Roger have a fine
little workshop. I don't believe I like living right in the city,
though. We boys have a heap more fun at a place like this where we can
get out-of-doors. Roger and Steve say so, too."

"I am glad you are so well content," observed Mrs. Conway.

"There's Celia," Edna sang out, seeing some one on the porch watching
for them. It was a chill, wintry morning, and they were all glad to
hurry indoors to the warm fire. The house looked cozy and cheerful,
yellow chrysanthemums in tall vases graced the hall and library; in the
latter, an open grate fire glowed, and Edna looked around complacently.
"It is kind of nice to get home," she remarked. "I love it at