“What’s the matter, sis?” he asked with some surprise:  “I hope you’re not sick?”

“No, I’m perfectly well,” she answered; “but, the prettier the place looks, the sorrier I feel to think I may have to go away and leave it.”

“Who says you are to go away?” he demanded,—­“not grandma Elsie, or mamma Vi either, I am sure, for they’re both too kind; and, in fact, I don’t believe anybody here wants to send you off.”

“Maybe not,” she said, “but I’ll have to go if papa says so; and, O Max!  I’m so afraid he will, because of—­all that—­all the trouble between grandpa Dinsmore and me about the music-lessons.”

“I didn’t suppose papa had been told about it?” he remarked, half inquiringly.

“Yes,” she said:  “I confessed every bit of it to him in that letter I wrote at Magnolia Hall.”

“Bully for you!” cried Max heartily.  “I knew you’d own up at last, like a brick, as you are.”

“O Max! you forget that mamma Vi does not approve of slang,” she said.  “But I don’t deserve a bit of praise for confessing, because I had to.  Papa wrote to me that he was sure I’d been misbehaving,—­though nobody had told him a single word about it,—­and that I must write at once, and tell him every thing.”

“Well, I’m glad you did; and I hope he won’t be hard on you, Lu.  Still, I wouldn’t like to be in your place, for papa can be quite severe when he thinks it necessary.  I wouldn’t fret, though,” he added in a consolatory tone, “because there’s no use trying to cross the bridge before you come to it, ’specially when you mayn’t come at all.”

“That’s quite true, but it’s a great deal easier to preach than to practise,” she said.  “Maxie, would you be sorry to have me sent away?” she asked, her voice taking on a beseeching tone.

“Why, of course I should,” he said.  “We’ve gone through a good deal together, and you know we’ve always been rather fond of each other, considering that we’re brother and sister,” he added laughingly.  “Ah, here comes Eva!” and he lifted his hat with a profound bow as a turn in the walk brought them face to face with her.

“O Eva!  I’m so glad you’ve come early!” exclaimed Lulu.

“I too,” said Max; “but, if you have any secrets for each other’s private ear, I’ll be off.”

“Your company is always agreeable, Max,” Evelyn said with a faint smile, “and I should be sorry to drive you away.”

“Thanks,” he said; “but I’ll have to go, for I hear grandpa Dinsmore calling me.”

He hastened to obey the call; and the two girls, each putting an arm about the other’s waist, paced to and fro along the gravel-walk.

“How is Fairview looking?” asked Lulu.

“Lovely:  it couldn’t be in better order, and there are a great many flowers in bloom.  One might say just the same of Ion.”

“Yes:  it is even prettier than Fairview, I have always thought.  But that’s a sweet place too and aunt Elsie and uncle Lester are delightful to live with.  I only wish I was as sure as you are of such a sweet home.”