able to collect enough money this year to buy those old ladies a
phonograph--you know--a Victrola--but everybody seems to feel so poor. I
thought of the check Uncle Cliff sent me and I told the doctor about it.
He didn't want to take it, but I said he just had to, and I ran home to
get it. Where is it, Grandmother?"

"But--Blue Bonnet, you couldn't get a phonograph here in Woodford. Not
the kind you would want--"

"No, of course not; but Doctor Clark said if you thought best for me to
give the money he could telephone to Boston this noon, and they could
get it here on the four-twenty train, without any doubt. Oh,
Grandmother, please don't say no. Seems to me I can't stand it if you
do. Don't you remember how old Mrs. Prior loved Alec's songs that day
she was here to see us? Why, she just seemed starved--"

Mrs. Clyde rose and went to the foot of the stairs.

"Lucinda," she called, "come down a minute, will you?"

Blue Bonnet did not give her grandmother time to explain, but laid her
plan before her aunt in a torrent of words.

At first, Miss Clyde seemed bewildered. Then a very tender, sympathetic
look passed between mother and daughter.

"I hardly think, Blue Bonnet, that your check would pay for the
Victrola," Miss Clyde said. "We should not want to get anything but the
best--something that would last; and records are very expensive."

Blue Bonnet looked woefully disappointed. Then she smiled delightedly.

"But, Aunt Lucinda, there's money left from what Uncle sent to buy my
clothes, you said so. Let's take that. Oh, please, Aunt Lucinda."

"I think it would be a beautiful thing to do, Lucinda," Mrs. Clyde said,
and Blue Bonnet flew to her grandmother and gave her a hug that nearly
took her off her feet.

"You know how little those poor people have to amuse them, and, as Blue
Bonnet says, Mrs. Prior seemed quite starved for music."

Miss Clyde never acted upon impulse. She thought for a few moments, then
turning, went up-stairs slowly. When she came down she handed Blue
Bonnet a check.

"I think this will buy the Victrola--and some records, too," she said.
"I would suggest that Doctor Clark get old-fashioned music--they would
like that best."

Mrs. Clyde and her daughter watched Blue Bonnet as she flew up the
street. When they turned from the window, there were tears in the eyes
of the elder woman.

"It was a generous impulse," she said; "like one of her mother's loving
deeds. I think perhaps--she k