window to overflowing.

But over it all a spirit of peace and contentment rested--a homey
atmosphere, unmistakable and refreshing. Blue Bonnet gazed through the
one unobstructed window of the little room wistfully. Twilight was
closing in. Somewhere out in the field a cow bell tinkled, and a boy's
voice called to the cattle. How familiar it all was.

Amanda's voice broke the stillness.

"Why, Blue Bonnet Ashe," she said, coming in the room followed by her
aunt with a lamp, "what are you doing in here all alone? You look as if
you had seen a ghost. Come right out in the kitchen. Aunt Priscilla has
supper all on the table."

And such a supper as it was!

The chicken, and there seemed an endless amount, was piled high on an
old blue platter that Blue Bonnet fancied her grandmother would have
paid almost any price for. Fluffy potatoes, flakey biscuits, golden
cream and butter, preserves in variety--everything from a farmhouse
larder that could tempt the appetite and gratify the taste.

"I feel as if I never could eat another mouthful as long as I live,"
Blue Bonnet declared as she rose from the table.

"That's just the way I used to feel last summer on the ranch after one
of old Gertrudis' meals," Kitty said.

Amanda's aunt suggested a run down the lane.

Down the lane they ran, laughing and calling; old Shep, stirred from his
usual calm, barking and bounding at their heels.

It was too dark for a walk, so the girls soon retraced their steps,
settling themselves in the parlor for a visit with the family before
going to bed.

"Do any of you play?" inquired Amanda's aunt, looking toward the odd
little piano.

"Blue Bonnet does," Kitty announced promptly. "Come, 'little Tommy
Tucker must sing for his supper.'"

Blue Bonnet went over to the piano. Kitty's remark served as a reminder.
She was glad to repay Amanda's aunt for some of her kindness.

The piano was sadly out of tune, but it is doubtful if Amanda's
relatives would have enjoyed a symphony concert as much as Blue Bonnet's
simple ballads--the familiar little airs which she gave unsparingly.

After she had quite exhausted her stock, there were clamors for
repetition, until Blue Bonnet felt that she had wiped out the debt of
the entire "We Are Sevens."

Amanda's aunt was found to be quite reasonable about transferring the
bed from the back room. Amanda and the small son of the household
undertook its removal, Kitty giving orders.

"Anybody would think