any covers on the bed, and in this hilly country the nights are
cool, even when the days are pretty warm. So, in the morning, I spoke to
Mrs. Snooks, and said we'd like some extra bedding, and she promised to
attend to it."

Ruth's face had crinkled suddenly into a smile of comprehension, which
Graham was too absorbed to notice.

"Well, that night a steamer rug appeared on the bed. It wasn't exactly a
success. You know a steamer rug's too narrow to cover two people
properly. If it was over Jack, I was left out in the cold, and _vice
versa_. We had to take turns shivering. After one of us got to the
point where his teeth chattered, he'd snatch the rug off the other
fellow and warm up. But it wasn't till this morning that I took any
particular notice of that rug. And Ruth, it belongs to us!"

Graham looked at his sister with an air of expecting her to be greatly
surprised. Translating her smile into an expression of incredulity, he
began to prove his assertion.

"Yes, I know it sounds absurd, but I'm not mistaken, Ruth. I suppose two
rugs might be of the same pattern, but it's hardly likely they would
have the identical ink-spots. Don't you remember how I spilled the ink
on that rug when I was getting over the measles? And down in the corner
is part of a tag Uncle John had sewed on, when he borrowed it for his
trip abroad. The 'Wylie' is torn off but 'John G.' is left. And now the
question is--"

Ruth's laughter could no longer be restrained. "Oh, Graham, she borrowed
it."

"Borrowed it!" repeated the amazed Graham. "Well, I like that."

"She rushed down here the morning after you came and said she had an
extra bed to make, and would we lend her a little bedding. Of course we
didn't have any bedding to spare. We'd only brought enough for ourselves
and hardly that, for it's cooler here than we expected. But the steamer
rug was lying around and we thought we could let her take that."

"But she must have bedding of her own," insisted Graham. "What does she
do in the winter time?"

"That's the funny thing about Mrs. Snooks. She borrows dust-pans, and
flat-irons and all sorts of necessary things and you feel sure that she
hasn't been doing without them all her life. And the queerest part of
all is that she acts so aggrieved if we refuse. If we tell her that
we're out of sugar, she seems as indignant as if we kept a store, and it
was our business to have sugar for everybody."

Peggy came out on the porch at that mom