shing her out of the nest before her wings
are ready, poor birdie!"

"O, no it doesn't," replied Mr. Conway. "It will only be changing
nests. Aunt Elizabeth will be just like a mother to her; it is not
like a boarding-school, my dear."

"I know," replied Mrs. Conway, resting her cheek against Edna's little
dark head. "Should you like to go to Aunt Elizabeth's, dear?"

"Cousin Louis will be there, you know," put in Edna's father, "and
you'll have fine times together. Suppose I read to you what Aunt
Elizabeth says. 'You write, my dear nephew, that it seems prudent, on
account of your wife's health, that you should go to Florida. I have
received some such news from William who is about to take a trip to
California in search of health. He has asked me to take charge of his
son, Louis, during his absence. Should you not like to place Edna,
also, with us during the time you are gone? She could then attend
school and would find a pleasing companion in her cousin Louis, who, I
fear, will be somewhat lonely with only myself and your Uncle Justus.
The advantages of a city are great, and I need not say we will
endeavor'--h'm--h'm--never mind the rest," said Mr. Conway, laying
down the letter. "You know, daughter, Aunt Elizabeth lives in a big
city, where there are fine shops and beautiful parks; moreover, you
would meet a lot of nice little girls in the school. It would be much
nicer than for you to stay here with sister and the boys while we are
gone. Don't you think so?"

"Yes," said Edna, her little fat hand enfolded in her mother's,
feeling very moist from the excitement of the prospect.

"Of course, I know it is best," said Mrs. Conway, "and I know Aunt
Elizabeth means to be as kind as possible." Here a wistful look came
into the mother's eyes, but Edna only saw visions of gay shops, while
she pictured romps with her cousin Louis.

She remembered very little of this great aunt, except that she had
once sent her a most beautiful doll, with a cunning trunk filled with
such neat, old-fashioned frocks and aprons, together with a real
little slate and books. Aunt Elizabeth had written a tiny letter which
the doll had brought pinned to her muff. In the letter the doll's name
was said to be Ada, and many instructions were given as to her
behavior and studies. So Ada and Aunt Elizabeth were inseparably
connected in Edna's mind.

"I must go get Ada ready," she said, jumping down from the sofa on
which she had been sitting. "W