er it had precious memories; the old bookcase was still
filled with toys and baby books; Tibby's dolls had a corner of their
own; Isobel's drawing tools were arranged on a table in the bay window
and, on some open shelves, were displayed Graham's precious "specimens,"
all neatly labeled and mixed with a collection of war trophies. To "fix
the nursery" would mean changes such as the Westley home had never
known! Each face was very serious.

"It wouldn't be much to do for Uncle Johnny!"

Isobel, Gyp, Graham and Tibby, each in her and his own way, adored Uncle
Johnny. Because their own father was away six months of every year,
Uncle Johnny often stood in the double role of paternal counsellor and
indulgent uncle.

"And he's been so sick," added Tibby.

"I can keep my stuff in my own room." Graham rather liked the idea.

"I suppose I can do my drawing in father's study--even if the light
isn't nearly as good." Isobel, who underneath all her little
affectations had an honest soul, knew in her heart that hers was not
much of a sacrifice, because she had not touched her drawing pencils for
weeks and weeks, but she purposely made her tone complaining.

"I s'pose we can play in there just the same?" asked Gyp.

"Of course we can," declared her mother. "We'll put up that little old
bed that's in the storeroom."

"What's her name?" Gyp's forehead was wrinkled in a scowl.

Mrs. Westley referred to the letter.

"Jerauld Travis. What a pretty name! And she's just your age, Gyp!"

But Gyp refused to be delighted at this fact.

Then Mrs. Westley, relieved that the children had consented, even though
ungraciously, to the change in their household, slipped the letter back
into its envelope. "I'll write to Uncle Johnny right away," and she
hurried from the room, a little fearful, perhaps, of the cloud that was
noticeably darkening Isobel's face.

"I think it's _horrid_," Isobel cried when she knew her mother was out
of hearing.

"What _you_ got to kick about? How'd you like it if you was _me_ with
another girl around?"

"If you was _I_," corrected Gyp, loftily. "I think maybe it'll be nice."

"You won't when she's here! And probably Uncle Johnny'll like her better
than any of us." Which added much to the flame of poor Isobel's
jealousy.

"Well, I shall just pay no more attention to her than's if she was a--a
_boarder_!" Isobel had a very vague idea as to how boarders were usually
treated. "And it's silly to think that