object
to anything."

"You're a dear girl! And they won't stay long, of course--especially
when they see how crowded we are. You'll like Thorne Lee, Charlotte;
he's one of the best fellows alive. I haven't seen the sister since she
was a small child, but if she's anything like her brother you'll have no
trouble entertaining her, sick or well. All right! I'll answer Lee's
letter, and say nothing about our being full-up."

"Of course not; that wouldn't be hospitality. When will they come?"

"In a day or two--as soon as she feels like travelling again."

"I'll be ready for her," and Charlotte gave him her brightest smile as
he hurried off.

She finished her bed-making, put the little room set apart for her own
private den into guest-room condition as nearly as it was possible to do
with articles of furniture borrowed from next door, and went down to
break the news to Mrs. Fields. She found that person explaining with
grim patience to the Peyton children why they could not make candy in
her kitchen at the inopportune hour of ten in the morning.

"But we always do at home!" complained Lucy, with a frown.

"Like as not you don't clear up the muss afterward, either," suggested
Mrs. Fields, with a sharp look.

"Course we don't," Randolph asserted, with a curl of his handsome upper
lip. "What's servants for, I'd like to know?"

"To make friends with, not to treat impolitely," said a clear voice
behind the boy.

Randolph and Lucy turned quickly, and Mrs. Fields's face, which had
grown grim, softened perceptibly. Both children looked ready to make
some tart reply to Charlotte's interpolation, but as their eyes fell
upon her they discovered that to be impossible. How could one speak
rudely when one met that kind but authoritative glance?

"This is Mrs. Fields's busiest time, you know," Charlotte said, "and it
wouldn't do to bother her now with making candy. In the afternoon I'll
help you make it. Come, suppose we go for a walk. I've some marketing to
do."

"Ran can go with you," said Lucy, as Charlotte proceeded to make ready
for the trip. "It's too cold for me. I'd rather stay here by the fire
and read."

Charlotte looked at her. Lucy's delicate face was paler than usual this
morning; she had a languid air.

"The walk in this fresh November breeze will be sure to make you feel
ever so much better," said Charlotte. "Don't you think so, Cousin Lula?"

Mrs. Peyton looked up reluctantly from her embroidery.

"Why,