are quite
enough for this family, and we don't want to adopt any more! Besides
this, Marjorie, it is far from likely that the little girl would be
allowed to come to us. She is being trained for her profession, and
though I feel sorry that the child is not happy, yet she is with her own
people, and they are responsible for the shaping of her life and career.
Just now, you are carried away by sympathy for the little girl, and I
don't blame you at all, for it is a sad case. But you must trust your
father's judgment, when he tells you that he does not think it wise
to follow out your suggestion."

Marjorie looked disappointed, but she well knew that when her father
talked thus seriously, there was no use in pursuing the subject; so she
only said, "All right, Father; I know you know best. But it does seem too
bad for Vivian not to have any home pleasures, when I have so many!"

"It does seem too bad, Marjorie, but since you can't help her in any way,
turn your thoughts to feeling glad and grateful that you yourself have a
happy home, and can wear button boots."

Marjorie laughed at her father's last words, but she knew that "button
boots" stood for the civilized dress of the home-child, as contrasted
with the stage trappings of the little Vivian.

So she put the photograph away among her treasures, and often looked at
it, and wondered if Vivian still longed for the sort of happy home-life
that meant so much to Marjorie.

CHAPTER XVIII

IN BOSTON

The next day the Maynards started for Boston. That is, their destination
was Boston, but Mr. and Mrs. Maynard had decided to go by very short
stages, and stop several times on the way.

And so they spent one night at New London, two or three more at Newport
and Narragansett Pier, and so on to Boston.

It was too early in the season for the summer crowds at the watering
places, but though the gay life was absent, they enjoyed their stay at
each place.

It was all so novel to the children that the days passed like a swiftly
moving panorama, and they went from one scene to another, always sure of
experiencing some new pleasure.

* * * * *

One warm and pleasant afternoon the big car swung into Boston, and
deposited its occupants at a pleasant hotel on a broad and beautiful
avenue.

As Mr. Maynard registered at the office, the clerk handed him a budget of
mail. It was not unusual for him to find letters awaiting him at the
vario