her moved nor spoke. She simply stared.

"Here's a note," began Tilly, advancing shyly, "for Mis' Wentworth."

Mechanically Hannah took the note and, scarcely realizing what she was
doing, threw open the door of the parlor--that parlor which was sacred
to funerals, weddings, and the minister's calls.

The children filed in slowly and deposited themselves with some skill
upon the slippery haircloth chairs and sofa. Hannah, still dazed, went
upstairs to her mistress.

"From the asylum, ma'am," she said faintly, holding out the note.

Mrs. Wentworth's eyes shone.

"Oh, the children! Where are they, Hannah?"

"In the parlor, ma'am."

"The parlor? Why, Hannah, the parlor is no place for those two
children!" Mrs. Wentworth started toward the door.

Hannah coughed and uptilted her chin.

"They ain't two, ma'am. There's as much as half a dozen of 'em."

"What!"

"There is, ma'am."

"Why, Hannah, what--" The lady tore open the note with shaking
fingers, and read:

_My dear Madam_: You very generously asked for ten children, but I hope
you will pardon me for sending only five. That is all we have with us
now, owing to several recent adoptions from our ranks--you know we are
never very large, being only a branch of the Hollingsworth Asylum. The
children were so crazy, though, at the idea of a trip to the country,
that I am sure each child will have fun enough--and make noise enough,
also, I fear--for two, so in the end you may think you've got your ten
children, after all. You must be fond of children to be willing to
give so many a two-weeks' vacation, but you don't know what a lot of
good you are doing. If you could have seen the children when I read
them your note, you would have been well repaid for all your trouble.
I wish there were more like you in the world. Yours respectfully,

AMANDA HIGGINS.

"Hannah," faltered Mrs. Wentworth, dropping into her chair, "they did
n't read my note right. They--they've actually sent us the whole
asylum!"

"Well, it looks like it--downstairs," returned Hannah grimly.

"Sure enough, they _are_ downstairs, and I must go to them," murmured
Mrs. Wentworth, rising irresolutely to her feet. "I--I 'll go down.
I'll have to send all but two home, of course," she finished, as she
left the room.

Downstairs she confronted five pairs of eyes shining out at her from
the gloom.

"Good-morning, children," she began, trying to steady her voice.
"There is--er--I--w