Uncle Jack. I should like to see him, shouldn't you, Betty?"

"Yes; I wonder if we ever shall. Mother doesn't like to have us talk
much about him, but I know she loves him very much; her eyes always look
that way when she tells us how handsome and splendid he used to be when
he was a boy."

"Wouldn't it be nice if Winifred Hamilton came to see us this
afternoon," Jack remarked rather irrelevantly; "I do like her very much,
don't you?"

"Yes, she's lovely; she said she'd come to see you some day."

"We haven't seen her since the day we went for the drive. Perhaps she's
waiting for you to call on her first."

"Mother won't let me go," said Betty regretfully; "she says she's afraid
Mrs. Hamilton might not want Winifred to know us."

"But if she hadn't wanted to know us she wouldn't have taken us to
drive, would she?"

"I shouldn't think so, but, any way, mother won't let me go there till
Winifred has been here."

"There's the clock striking four," exclaimed Jack joyfully; "mother'll
be in in a few minutes now. Why don't you light the gas stove, Betty,
and get her slippers nice and warm? She'll be so tired and wet."

"I will," said Betty, springing up with alacrity; "and I'll make her a
cup of tea, too; she'll like that." And away bustled the little
housewife, disappointment and vexation alike forgotten in the pleasant
prospect of making mother comfortable.

She had scarcely finished her preparations, and the kettle was just
beginning to boil, when the familiar ring was heard, and she flew to
open the door.

Jack was quite correct in his predictions; Mrs. Randall was both wet and
tired. Indeed, she came in looking so much more tired than usual that
Betty noticed it, and inquired anxiously as she hung up the dripping
umbrella, and helped her mother off with her waterproof, "Have you got a
headache, mother, dear?"

"Yes, dear, I have a bad headache. My cold is rather bad, too; I have
been coughing a great deal to-day. Is Jack all right?"

"Oh, yes; he ate a good lunch, and was reading all the morning, and
drawing pictures all the afternoon."

"How chilly it feels here," Mrs. Randall said, shivering and coughing as
she spoke.

"I've lighted the stove, and your slippers are nice and warm," said
Betty proudly. "The kettle's boiling too, and I'll have a nice cup of
tea for you in five minutes."

Mrs. Randall's tired face brightened, and she looked rather relieved.

"That is good," she said. "Hurry as quickl