“How is it that I can’t never get any of you to come out to the Conic Section?  I’m sure I’ve asked you often enough.  There’s Elsie, now, and John, they’re just the age to enjoy being in the country.  Why won’t you send ’em out for a week?  Johnnie can feed chickens, and chase ’em, too, if she likes,” she added, as Johnnie dashed just then into view, pursuing one of Phil’s bantams round the house.  “Tell her so, won’t you, Katherine?  There is lots of chickens on the farm.  She can chase ’em from morning to night, if she’s a mind to.”

Katy thanked her, but she didn’t think the children would care to go.  She gave Johnnie the message, and then the whole matter passed out of her mind.  The family were in low spirits that morning because of Cousin Helen’s having just gone away; and Elsie was lying on the sofa fanning herself with a great palm-leaf fan.

“Oh, dear!” she sighed.  “Do you suppose it’s every going to be cool again?  It does seem as if I couldn’t bear it any longer.”

“Aren’t you well, darling?” inquired Katy, anxiously.

“Oh, yes! well enough,” replied Elsie.  “It’s only this horrid heat, and never going away to where it’s cooler.  I keep thinking about the country, and wishing I were there feeling the wind blow.  I wonder if papa wouldn’t let John and me go to Conic Section, and see Mrs. Worrett.  Do you think he would, if you asked him?”

“But,” said Katy, amazed, “Conic Section isn’t exactly country, you know.  It is just out of the city,—­only six miles from here.  And Mrs. Worrett’s house is close to the road, papa said.  Do you think you’d like it, dear?  It can’t be very much cooler than this.”

“Oh, yes! it can,” rejoined Elsie, in a tone which was a little fretful.  “It’s always cooler on a farm.  There’s more room for the wind, and—­ oh, every thing’s pleasanter!  You can’t think how tired I am of this hot house.  Last night I hardly slept at all; and, when I did, I dreamed that I was a loaf of brown bread, and Debby was putting me into the oven to bake.  It was a horrid dream.  I was so glad to wake up.  Won’t you ask papa if we may go, Katy?”

“Why, of course I will, if you wish it so much.  Only”—­Katy stopped and did not finish her sentence.  A vision of fat Mrs. Worrett had risen before her, and she could not help doubting if Elsie would find the farm as pleasant as she expected.  But sometimes the truest kindness is in giving people their own unwise way, and Elsie’s eyes looked so wistful that Katy had no heart to argue or refuse.

Dr. Carr looked doubtful when the plan was proposed to him.

“It’s too hot,” he said.  “I don’t believe the girls will like it.”

“Oh, yes! we will, papa; indeed we will,” pleaded Elsie and John, who had lingered near the door to learn the fate of their request.

Dr. Carr smiled at the imploring faces, but he looked a little quizzical.  “Very well,” he said, “you may go.  Mr. Worrett is coming into town to-morrow, on some bank business.  I’ll send word by him; and in the afternoon, when it is cooler, Alexander can drive you out.”