ell--" She stopped helplessly, and a small girl
slid to the floor from her perch on the sofa and looked longingly
toward the hall.

"Please, ma'am, there's a kitty out there; may I get it?" she asked
timidly.

"Please, have you got a dog, too?" piped up a boy's voice.

"An' chickens an' little pigs? They said you had!" interposed a
brown-eyed girl from the corner.

"An' there's hammocks an' swings, maybe," broke in Tilly; "an' please,
ma'am, may n't we go outdoors and begin right away? Two weeks is an
awful short time, you know, for all we want to do," she finished
earnestly.

Four pairs of feet came down to the floor with a thump and eight small
boots danced a tattoo of impatience on the parlor carpet--the small
girl was already out in the hall and on her knees to the cat.

"Why, yes,--that is--you see, there was a mistake; I--" Mrs. Wentworth
stopped suddenly, for as soon as the "yes" had left her lips the
children had fled like sheep.

She stepped to the front door and looked out.

A boy was turning somersaults on the grass. Three girls had started a
game of tag. Watching all this with eager eyes was a boy of eight, one
foot tightly bound into an iron brace. It was on this child that Mrs.
Wentworth's eyes lingered the longest.

"Poor little fellow! Well, he shall be one of the two," she murmured,
as she hurried out to Hannah.

"When they going, ma'am?" began Hannah, with an assurance born of long
service.

"I--I haven't told them; I--well, I waited for Mr. Wentworth,"
confessed her mistress hastily. Then, with some dignity: "They can
just as well have to-day outdoors, anyway."

It was nearly noon when Mr. Wentworth drove into the yard, gave his
horse into the care of Bill, the man-of-all-work, and hurried into the
house.

"Mary, Mary--where are you?" he called sharply. Never before had James
Wentworth broken the serene calm of his home with a voice like that.

"Yes, dear, I 'm here--in the dining-room."

Mrs. Wentworth's cheeks were flushed, her hair was disordered, and her
neck-bow was untied; but she was smiling happily as she hovered over a
large table laden with good things and set for six.

"You can sit down with them, James," she exclaimed; "I'm going to help
Hannah serve them."

"Mary, what in the world does this mean? The yard is overrun with
screaming children! Have they sent us the whole asylum?" he demanded.

Mrs. Wentworth laughed hysterically.

"That's exactly what t