anticipated home coming of
her dear father!

Breakfast over, Sally propped Miss Selina up on the cushions and left
her for a time.

After wondering how long it would take Abe to drive back from the
eleven-thirty train, Miss Selina started to think of something she had
been pondering the last few days. What should she do with her vast
estate if she died? She had never made a will, for she abhorred the idea
of dying and having any strangers in her home. But she couldn't take it
with her, and she was nearing seventy years of age with all the signs of
old age breaking over her defenceless head.

She tried to think of someone to whom she really wanted to leave her
home, but there was no one. She generally sighed at this point and
dropped the unpleasant thought. To-day, however, she wondered if her
nephew and his wife could be plotting to get her property by having Ruth
visit whenever she was invited. This idea seemed to take hold of her,
and she frowned as she made up her mind to ask Ruth questions about her
mother's intentions and opinions regarding Aunt Selina and Happy Hills.

Miss Selina had been so engrossed in her thoughts that the sound of
carriage wheels on the drive failed to reach her. Therefore, it was with
a start of surprise that she heard the door flung open and a happy
child's voice cry:

"Aunt Selina! I'm here! Are you glad to have me?" while a pair of soft
little arms were gently placed about her withered old neck and fresh
little lips pressed her cheek.

The caress was such an unusual experience that Miss Selina forgot to
wince or complain, and before she did remember, Ruth was bubbling over
with news.

"What do you think is to happen to-day?--Oh! Aunt Selina, we all have
new names at home; even mother is now called Mother Wings and I am
Fluff. The other Blue Birds have names they chose for themselves, and
Ned is an Owl, and prints our weekly paper called the _Chirp_. Now,
instead of Aunt Selina, I want to call you a bird-name, too. May I?"

Aunt Selina smiled sympathetically at Ruth's words, but, recalled to her
condition by a twinge of pain, she moaned, "Child, poor old Aunt Selina
would make a wretched specimen of a bird nowadays. The only kind I feel
that I could represent truly is a raven--for it always croaks."

Ruth laughed consolingly, but cried, "Oh, Aunt Selina, that is just
because you feel blue with those old rheumatics. Mother says we always
look at life through dark spectacles when