uldn't read them as I wanted to."

Margaret had sent the volumes to her for a birthday gift. She had just
skimmed through them, and was saving them up for her leisure time.
Everybody was talking about them, and recommending them to girls. Miss
Strickland certainly knew how to interest readers.

Doctor Joe shook his head, with a sort of mirthful regret which couldn't
help but soothe the disappointment a little.

"I don't want you to read or to study, but just run out in the sunshine
and get fat. If we have such a poor pale little thing in our family,
people will wonder if I really am a good physician."

He looked so grave, not a bit as if he was "making fun," that she gave a
sort of sighing assent.

"If you get real homesick, you need not stay more than a fortnight. But
there is a good deal to learn out of doors. There are trees and wild
flowers and birds. I'll come up now and then and take you out driving."

"I shall like that. I suppose I may write to Daisy Jasper?" she returned
with a flash of spirit. "You see I want to know about London, and
Berlin, and ever so many places, so that I won't seem like an ignoramus
when she comes back."

"You will have all winter to learn about them." Then he kissed her and
went off about his own business.

She had to go and say good-bye to Stevie, who was just too sweet for
anything, and Annie, and dark-eyed Daisy Hoffman.

CHAPTER IX

ANNABEL LEE

It was queer up at West Farms, delightful, too. The house was old, with
a hall through the middle, and a Dutch door just as there was up at
Yonkers. The top part was opened in the morning, sometimes the whole
door. The front room was the parlour, and it had not been refurnished
since Mrs. Odell came there as a bride; so it looked rather antiquated
to modern eyes. The back room was the sleeping chamber; on the other
side, a living room with rag carpet on the floor; then a kitchen and a
great shed-kitchen, one side of which was piled up with wood. There was
a big back stoop that looked on the vegetable garden; there was an
orchard down below, and then cornfields and meadows.

The old house was what was called a story and a half. The pointed roof
had windows in the end, but none in the front. There were two nice big
chambers upstairs, and a garret. Mr. Odell began to talk about building
a new house; and Mrs. Odell said the things--by which she meant the
carpets and furniture--were good enough for the old place, but they'd