h his patience was sorely tried by the prolonged farewells,
he managed to keep fairly good-humored.

"Why was Bessie Kent kissing you as though she never expected to see
you again?" he asked Rosemary curiously. "Doesn't she live near you
and won't you see her nearly every day this summer?"

"Oh, that's just because it was the last day of school," explained
Rosemary.

"Silly, I call it," declared Sarah, voicing Jack's sentiments. "I
got promoted, Jack. And I'm going to hunt specimens all summer for
the biology teacher. He asked me to."

"I got promoted, too," cried Shirley proudly. "I got a silver star
on my card. And now I'm in the second grade."

Jack looked at Rosemary. She nodded happily.

"Passed in everything," she said. "Even history. Won't it be fun to
be in the grammar graduating class next term!"

"Well I passed, myself," announced Jack. "Watch me pick out that
fishing rod. And the garden won't see much of me this summer, I can
tell you that."

"Mother will be so pleased," said Rosemary, as Jack went on to his
house, and the three girls mounted the steps of the Willis home.
"She likes us to do well in school, and Hugh was never kept back a
single year. She would like us to follow his record, I know."

"The house looks kind of nice, doesn't it?" said Sarah unexpectedly.
Comment of that kind was unusual with her.

The house did look "nice," its rich cream color showing up the vivid
green of the shrubbery and the velvety surface of the well-kept
lawn. The new rose bushes were bearing well and Doctor Hugh had
managed new green and white striped awnings for the porch.

"I wish Mother could see the roses," said Rosemary as they went in.

The late afternoon June sunshine streamed in through the hall window
and made a broad band to the stairway which was in shadow. Voices
sounded in the living room.

"Hugh's home!" cried Sarah, her quick eyes darting to the hall table
where a man's hat and a light leather bag lay together with a
woman's hat and veil.

Rosemary saw the hat and veil. They were not Aunt Trudy's. Her heart
gave a sudden leap.

They went forward across the hall to the doorway of the living-room.
There, in the large arm-chair, facing the door, sat a little woman
with eyes like Rosemary's and dark hair like Sarah, but faintly
streaked with gray across its ripples. She was thin, as though from
a recent illness, but a clear pink glowed in her cheeks and her soft
voice was firm and strong. He