e. I am an uncle. Do you know what an
uncle is?" Mr. Latham inquired.

Eunice shook her head again.

"O Eunice, an uncle can be the nicest person in the world!" Mollie
exclaimed. "And that is what Mr. Latham is going to be to you. Kiss him,
and tell him you mean to be good."

Mr. Winthrop Latham and little Indian Eunice kissed each other shyly and
solemnly. But in that kiss their affection was sealed.

What Reginald Latham and his mother thought of the discovery of the
relationship between Eunice and Mr. Winthrop Latham may be easily
imagined. Eunice as his niece would undoubtedly inherit a large portion
of his fortune. And how was Reginald to be provided for? Bent on the
effort to conceal the relationship, Reginald and his mother had started
long before dawn to walk up to the grandmother's hut, and, as the old
squaw had explained, had met her on the side of the hill. They had tried
to induce her to give them the name of the man in Stockbridge who knew of
Eunice's parentage, but the old woman was obdurate. Failing in this,
mother and son had returned to their home.

CHAPTER XXIV

WHAT TO DO WITH EUNICE

"Bab, will you come out on the hotel driveway a minute?" Ruth asked of
Barbara. Miss Sallie and the girls were back in Lenox. Little Eunice was,
for the present, staying at their hotel with them.

"I am not dressed, Ruth, dear. I shall join you in a minute," Bab called
back to her. "What's the matter?"

"Wait and see, lady mine," sang Ruth. "But do, do hurry. Mollie, Grace
and I are waiting for you, and there is another friend with us whom you
will be de-lighted to see!"

"Ralph, or Hugh?" Bab guessed.

"Neither one this time!" Ruth declared. "But now I must fly back. If you
wish to know what is going on, hurry along."

On the hotel driveway Bab first discovered Mr. Winthrop Latham with Aunt
Sallie and Eunice. Eunice had her hand in her uncle's. They had grown to
be great friends.

A little farther on Barbara spied Ruth, Mollie and Grace. Near them stood
a stable boy. He was leading a beautiful little horse about by the
bridle. It was Beauty.

Barbara looked around for Dorothy or Gwendolin Morton. However, neither
of the girls could be seen.

"Here comes Bab," called Mollie.

But Barbara had already run up to Beauty.

"O girls, I believe she knows me!" Bab exclaimed in delight. The little
horse neighed as Bab stroked its glossy neck. It put its pretty nose down
near her hand and sniffed. Be