n on it, and she meant _Joan of
Arc!_

"_Later._ I had to stop there to wait on a whole group. I don't
understand why they always come in hordes. They don't seem to be
connected at all, but there are always times when there is no one here
and then suddenly an influx.

"Just now the room is empty again. I wish you could see it. It is a dear
little room and now that it is being really used, doesn't have that bare
look it had at first. We fixed up a darling Children's Corner, with some
child pictures cut from a magazine and framed, and a little round table
Polly used to have, and my own little rocker. The window is a sunny one,
and the little curtains look so fresh and dainty. Almost always there is
some child or other sitting there looking at pictures or reading.

"_Later again._ Dearest, dearest Aunt Clara! My eyes are all full
of happy tears. I can't write clearly. I came home from the library a
little tired and quite willing to let Polly take it for the evening. And
here on the porch was the box, the blessed box, addressed to me. Of
course, I wasn't too tired to open it! O, you dear darling! We have
needed color in that bare little place so much, and here is this
beautiful glowing picture just full of story suggestions. There never
was a child born who could look at that, and not go dreaming off into
all sorts of fairy tales. It makes me so happy to think you care enough
about our little library to give your own beautiful work. I wanted to go
right down and hang it, but I called Polly up on the 'phone and she came
over, and said I should keep it this evening to look at, and we'd hang
it when Algernon comes back to-morrow. She is delighted, too, and
Algernon will be, and he will send you a formal letter of thanks, but
nobody can be so pleased as I am, because you are my almost-truly aunt,
you know.

"I do hope you can feel the thanks I'm sending you across all that big
salt water!"

* * * * *

Clara Lyndesay's own eyes misted a little.

"That little study isn't deserving of such glowing words," she said to
herself. "Now I must see what my other childie has to say. Their letters
are growing more similar. Catherine's association with other girls is
giving her a more open manner, and Hannah is growing a bit more mature.
Still,--" her eyes fell upon the wild slant of the writing before her,
"I suspect she never will be quite grown up, and this particular time
she doesn't s