would have expected
that. Flaxie was good too. She seemed at this time to have forgotten all
her little fretful, troublesome ways, and was always willing to stay in
Preston's chamber, and tell him everything that happened in the house or
out of it; just how the pony looked and acted, and how he coughed a
little dot of a mouse out of his nose, supposed to have run up his
nostril when he was eating his "granary." Flaxie could be very
interesting when she chose, and Preston's face began to light up at the
sound of her little feet on the stairs.

She had never loved her brother so well as she did now that she had
become useful to him, and it made her very happy to hear Preston tell
his mother that "Flaxie grew better and better; she was almost as good
now as Julia."

Milly had gone home, but she came back again in June. You see that the
twin cousins were not very particular about taking turns in their
visits, but went and came just as their two mothers found it most
convenient.

By this time Preston could venture out of doors on a dark day or in the
evening; but I am sorry to say he was obliged to wear spectacles. This
amused the little ones, Phil and Ethel, but Flaxie was very sorry.

"I do pity those spectacles," said she to Milly in a low voice, as they
walked under the apple-trees with their arms around each other's waist.

"Oh, well," returned Milly brightly, "he won't have to wear them
always."

"Yes, he will. He said he was afraid the boys would laugh when they saw
him, but they didn't. Some of them cried though; I saw Bert Abbott
wiping his eyes."

After a while, the little girls, and indeed all Preston's friends,
became so accustomed to seeing him in glasses that they did not mind it
all. He could see perfectly well, and was as happy as ever; so it didn't
seem worth while to "pity his spectacles."

And now I must tell you one thing more about this dear boy, and then my
story will be done.

CHAPTER XII.

BRAVE PRESTON GRAY.

"Never saw such folks for jelly; they eat it by the quart. Wish I could
be sick once in a while, and get some myself," muttered Preston, as he
settled his school-book under his arm, and took the cup his mother had
brought to the door.

It was Jimmy Proudfit who was sick now, and Mrs. Gray was in the habit
of sending him little dainties by Preston, who often grumbled about it,
and said he was "tired of the whole Proudfit family." Mrs. Gray never
took any notice of these u