th of us. We didn't make any friends at
home; there was no one we cared for, and we are such a funny, reserved
crew--at least that's what they say here about me, and I believe I was
the best of us--in that way, I mean. It won't be so very long before we
shall be going home, and, my word, it is worth while going away just to
have the going home again. So cheer up, old girl; it isn't every one
that can boast of a brother like me. Hurry up and write, just to show
you appreciate your blessings."

"There _are_ some things to make up for being away," thought Kitty, and
she wrote Dan a long, bright, hopeful letter, and another to Betty.

A week or so later she wrote to her father to broach her desire to bring
home Pamela with her. She thought it wise to mention it early, as it
would take some time to reconcile Aunt Pike to the thought. For more
than a week she had no reply and no letter from any one, and she was
just beginning to worry very much about it when a letter came from her
father.

"I shall be delighted to welcome your young friend," he wrote, "and I am
very glad you have one you want to bring home with you. But I can only
consent conditionally, for poor unfortunate Anna is down with measles,
and is very unwell, poor child. I have not spoken to your aunt yet
about your plan, for she is too worried about Anna, and some other
matters, to bear any more agitation. If Betty and Tony do not develop
measles, and I am taking every precaution to prevent its spreading, the
house will be free of infection and safe for you all to come to; but
should they develop it--well, it does no good to climb our hills before
we reach them, and we will not anticipate any such blow. When Anna is
free from infection and able to travel, her mother will take her to the
sea for a thorough bracing up. I am sure you will understand how things
are at present, and make the best of them if they should not turn out as
you wish."

Poor Kitty! She saw at once that what her father tried not to
anticipate was the possibility of her not being able to come home at all
for the holidays, nor Dan either; and how could one help climbing such a
hill before one came to it, or at least standing at its foot and gazing
anxiously up its rough, stony sides?

"I do think Anna was born to aggravate," she said crossly, but a few
moments later her anger against her cooled. "It must be horrid for her
too," she added, "for she never seems to get any fun out