re the
best children in the world--everybody says so.

"Tom has plenty of cigars, I know, for the money I should have had for
a new suit went to pay his cigar-man. He has some new claret, too, that
HE goes into ecstasies over, though _I_ can't tell it from the vilest
black ink, except by the color. Our horses are in splendid condition,
and so is the garden--you see I don't forget your old passion for
flowers. And, last and best, there never were so many handsome girls at
Hillcrest as there are among the summer boarders already here; the
girls you already are acquainted with here will see that you meet all
the newer acquisitions.

"Reply by telegraph right away.

"Of course you'll say 'Yes.'

"In great haste, your loving

"SISTER HELEN.

P. S. You shall have our own chamber; it catches every breeze, and
commands the finest views. The children's room communicates with it;
so, if anything SHOULD happen to the darlings at night, you'd be sure
to hear them."

"Just the thing!" I ejaculated. Five minutes later I had telegraphed
Helen my acceptance of her invitation, and had mentally selected books
enough to busy me during a dozen vacations. Without sharing Helen's
belief that her boys were the best ones in the world, I knew them well
enough to feel assured that they would not give me any annoyance. There
were two of them, since Baby Phil died last fall; Budge, the elder, was
five years of age, and had generally, during my flying visits to Helen,
worn a shy, serious, meditative, noble face, with great, pure,
penetrating eyes, that made me almost fear their stare. Tom declared he
was a born philanthropist or prophet, and Helen made so free with Miss
Muloch's lines as to sing:--

"Ah, the day that THOU goest a-wooing,
Budgie, my boy!"

Toddie had seen but three summers, and was a happy little know-nothing,
with a head full of tangled yellow hair, and a very pretty fancy for
finding out sunbeams and dancing in them. I had long envied Tom his
horses, his garden, his house and his location, and the idea of
controlling them for a fortnight was particularly delightful. Tom's
taste in cigars and claret I had always respected, while the lady
inhabitants of Hillcrest were, according to my memory, much like those
of every other suburban village, the fairest of their sex.

Three days later I made the hour and a half trip between New York and
Hillcrest, and hired a hackman to drive me over to Tom's. Half a mile
fro