ld fall in
love with Solomon, he's such a dear."

Mrs. Clyde recalled the five dollar bill she had witnessed Mr. Ashe pass
to the baggage-man at the beginning of the journey, and the money she
had given by his instruction along the way, and wondered how much
Solomon's real worth had contributed to his care.

"I'm so glad we're arriving in the afternoon," Blue Bonnet said, as she
gathered up magazines and various other articles that littered the
section. "There's something so flat about getting anywhere in the
morning--nothing to do but sit round waiting for trunks that have been
delayed, and wander about the house. I wonder if Aunt Lucinda told the
girls we were coming?"

Mrs. Clyde fancied not. A quiet home-coming after so strenuous a summer
was much to be desired.

Blue Bonnet and the We Are Sevens had parted company in New York several
weeks before, the girls going on to Woodford in care of the General, in
order not to miss the first week of school.

The stay in New York had been particularly gratifying to Blue Bonnet,
for there had been ample time while waiting for Aunt Lucinda to arrive
from her summer's outing in Europe, to do some of the things left undone
on her last visit. A day at the Metropolitan Museum proved a delight;
the shops fascinating--especially Tiffany's, where Blue Bonnet spent
hours over shining trays, mysterious designs in monograms, and antique
gold settings, leaving an order that quite amazed Grandmother Clyde,
until she learned that the purchase was for Uncle Cliff.

Then there had been a delightful week with the Boston relatives, Aunt
Lucinda going straight to Woodford to open the house and make things
comfortable for her mother's arrival.

Cousin Tracy, as on that other memorable visit, had proved an ideal
host. To be sure, a motor car had been substituted for the sightseeing
bus so dear to Blue Bonnet's heart, but she found it, on the whole,
quite as enjoyable, and confided to Cousin Tracy as they sped through
the crooked little streets or walked through the beloved Common, that
she liked Boston ever so much better than New York, it seemed so nice
and countrified. There was a second visit to Bunker Hill and the
Library, to which Blue Bonnet brought fresh enthusiasm, more stories of
Cousin Tracy's coins and medals, and so the days passed all too swiftly.

"Well, at last!" Blue Bonnet exclaimed, as the train began to slacken
speed and the familiar "Next stop Woodford" echoed through