wn a tree-lined street, and they were at
the "cottage."

"A cottage," cried Suzanna, "why it's a big house!"

"Everything is called a cottage down here," said Mrs. Bartlett.

Mr. Bartlett used the brass knocker and its echo reverberated down the
street. An elderly Scotch woman, Bessie, who had been long with Mrs.
Bartlett's family, met them in the hall, her pleasant face alight with
smiles. She said now:

"Everything is ready, and the trunks, I suppose, will be here within a
short time."

"What's that sound?" Suzanna asked.

"That's the ocean booming," said Mrs. Bartlett. "Now let's go upstairs
and prepare ourselves for luncheon. Nancy will show you children your
different rooms."

So upstairs they went, Nancy in the lead. She threw open the door of the
bedrooms. Suzanna and Maizie were given one from whose windows the ocean
could be seen. Peter had a room all to himself, a small one with a cot
which was much to his liking. "It's like camping out," he made himself
believe. Graham occupied one next door. Little Daphne was with Mrs.
Bartlett.

"There's two closets," cried Maizie, as she went on a tour of
investigation. "One for your clothes and one for mine. Sometimes,
Suzanna," she said, "I can hardly believe it all yet."

"That's the way I feel," said Suzanna. Nancy appeared at the door
bearing snowy towels which she gave to the children. "Here, children,"
she said, "the bath room is at the end of the hall, and you must hurry."

So Suzanna and Maizie hurried and they were the first downstairs. The
house was much more simply furnished, of course, than the big one in
Anchorville, but as the children went about they found many interesting
things. In one long, narrow room, the length of the first floor, was a
fireplace taking up one entire end, and built of irregular stones,
giving a charming effect. There were big easy chairs and sofas; tables
heaped with magazines and books. On the walls were color pictures
suspended by long, dim-worn chains--ocean scenes, a ship at sea, and
over the piano, fifty years old as they discovered later, hung several
faded miniatures of ladies of a long past age. Most interesting of all
to Suzanna was an album she found in an old cabinet, an album that as
you looked through it at ladies with voluminous skirts, at men with wing
collars, and little girls with white pantalettes, a hidden music box
tinkled forth dainty airs from a long-forgotten operetta.

In another room on the oppos