a twin for you. Jerry, this boy is my nephew Graham--he's not
nearly as grown-up as he looks. And this is Tibby!"

Jerry flashed a smile. They seemed to her--this awkward, thin,
dark-skinned girl whom Uncle Johnny had called Gyp, the tall,
roguish-faced boy, and little Tibby, whose straight braids were black
like Gyp's and whose eyes were violet-blue--more wonderful than anything
she had seen along the way; they were, indeed, the "best of all."

"Oh," she stammered, in a laughing, excited way, "it's just wonderful
to--really--be--be here." Before her glowing enthusiasm the children's
prejudice melted in a twinkling. Gyp held out her hand with a friendly
gesture and Pepperpot, as though he understood everything that was
happening, stuck his head out from the shelter of Jerry's arm and thrust
his paw into Gyp's welcoming clasp.

Everyone laughed--Graham and Tibby uproariously.

"Goodness _me_--a _dog_!" Mrs. Westley cried, with a startled glance
toward John Westley.

"Let him down," commanded Graham, as though he and Jerry were old
friends. Jerry put Pepperpot down and the four children leaned over him.
Promptly Pepperpot stood on his hind legs and executed a merry dance.

"He cut through the woods and headed us off, miles away from the
Notch--we couldn't do anything else but bring him along," Uncle Johnny
whispered to Mrs. Westley under cover of the children's laughter. "For
Heaven's sake, Mary, let him stay."

There had been for years a very fixed rule in the Westley household that
dogs were "not allowed." "They bring their dirty feet and their greasy
bones and things on the rugs and the chairs," was the standing
complaint, though Mrs. Westley had never minded telltale marks from
muddy little shoes nor the imprint of sticky fingers on satin
upholstery; nor had she ever allowed painters to gloss over the initials
that Graham had carved with his first jackknife on one of the broad
window-sills of the library. "When he's a grown man and away from the
nest--I'll have _that_," she had explained.

"I don't know what Mrs. Hicks will say," she answered rather helplessly,
knowing, as she watched the young people, that she would not have the
heart to bar Pepper from their midst.

"I say, Jerry,"--Graham had Pepper's nose in his hand--"can I have him
for my dog? Nearly all the fellows have dogs, but mother----" he glanced
quickly in her direction.

Graham might just as well have asked Jerry to cut out a part of her
he