I hear a sheep," he said, looking about.

Gladys flushed, but turning toward Faith for appreciation, she made the
doll repeat her accomplishment.

"It's that dear Vera!" cried Faith, falling on her knees in the pine
needles before Gladys. "Oh, make her do it again, Gladys, please do!"

Her visitor smiled and complied, pleased with her country cousin's delight.

"Think of a doll that can talk!" cried Faith.

"I think she bleats," laughed Ernest, and he mimicked Vera's staccato
tones.

Faith laughed, too, but Gladys gave him a flash of her brown eyes.

"A boy doesn't know anything about dolls," said Faith. "I should think
you'd be the happiest girl, Gladys!"

"I am," returned Gladys complacently. "What sort of a doll have you,
Faith?"

"Rag, tag, and bobtail," laughed Ernest.

"Now you keep still," said his sister. "I'll show you my dolls when we go
to dinner, Gladys. I don't play with them very much because Ernest doesn't
like to, and now it's vacation we're together a lot, you know; but I just
love them, and if you were going to stay longer we'd have a lot of fun."

Faith looked so bright as she spoke, Gladys wished she had brought
something for her. She wasn't so sure about Ernest. He was a nice-looking,
strong boy, but he had made fun of Vera. At present he was letting off some
of his superfluous energy by climbing a tree.

"Look out for the pitch, Ernest," said his sister warningly. "See, Gladys,
I have a horse out here," and Faith went to where the low-growing limb of
a pine sprang flexibly as she leaped upon it into an imaginary side-saddle.
Gladys smiled at her languidly, as she bounded gayly up and down.

"I have a pony," returned Gladys, rocking gently in her swinging cradle.

"That must be splendid," said Faith. "Ernest rides our old Tom bareback
around the pasture sometimes, but I can't."

Very soon the children were called to dinner, and wonderfully good it
tasted to Gladys, who took note of cottage cheese, apple-butter, and
doughnuts, and determined to order them at home the very next day.

As they were all rising from the table, a telegraph boy drove up in a
buggy, and a telegram was handed to Ellen. Her face showed surprise as she
read it, and she looked at aunt Martha.

"Could we stay here a few days?" she asked.

"What is it, Ellen?" demanded Gladys.

"Your father's friend wants him and your mother to take a trip with him,
and your mother thinks you might like to stay here a while. I