“Flexible flyers!” cried Bobby.  “Oh, Mother, can’t we go out to-night?”

“Mercy, no,” answered Mother Blossom.  “To-morrow’s Saturday, and you’ll have plenty of time to play in the snow.  Hurry now, and get ready for supper.  I shouldn’t want Daddy to come home and find his family looking like wild Indians.”

It was too much to expect that the children could think or talk anything but sleds and snow that evening, and many were the anxious peeps taken through the living-room windows after supper to see how deep the feathery stuff was.

“Still snowing,” reported Sam, as he brought in a great armful of wood for the fireplace.  “Looks like real winter at last.”

Mother Blossom was mending the twins’ mittens, for their thumbs had a way of coming through, no matter how often she knitted them new pairs or darned the old.

“I’m going upstairs to hunt my muffler,” said Meg.  “I think I left it in the bureau drawer, but I’d better look.”

Father Blossom laughed.

“You all evidently plan to start out right after breakfast, don’t you?” he teased them.  “Where is the best coasting, Bobby?”

“On Wayne Place hill,” replied Bobby.  “My, I’m anxious to let Fred Baldwin see the new sled.”

Aunt Polly folded up her embroidery.

“I’ll go upstairs with you, Meg,” she said.  “I’ve something I want to show you.  Come into my room after you find your scarf.”

As they went upstairs they met Twaddles coming down, carrying the cat, Annabel Lee, in his arms.

“Going to give her a ride on the sled—­just in the hall,” he informed them.  “If she gets used to sleds in the house, maybe she’ll like to take a ride outdoors.  Philip could pull her.”

Aunt Polly was doubtful about Annabel Lee’s feelings toward sleds, but Twaddles was sure she would learn to like coasting.

CHAPTER III

AUNT DOROTHY’S LOCKET

“Aunt Polly?” Meg tapped lightly on her aunt’s door.

“Yes, dear, come in,” called Aunt Polly.  “You found your muffler?  That’s good.  Come over here and see this.”

Aunt Polly was seated before her open trunk, a little white box on her knees.  Meg came and stood beside her.

“This was your great-great Aunt Dorothy’s,” said Aunt Polly, opening the little box.

It was lined with blue velvet and on the velvet lay a little gold locket.

“Oh, how pretty!” exclaimed Meg.

The locket was round and set with tiny blue stones that formed three forget-me-not flowers.  In the center of each flower sparkled a tiny diamond.

“The blue stones are turquoises,” explained Aunt Polly.  “Great Aunt Dorothy wore her locket on a bit of black velvet, but I bought this chain for you.  Do you like it, dear?”

“Is it for me?” asked the surprised Meg.  “For me, Auntie?  Can I wear it to school and show it to the girls?  Oh! can I?”