yone."

"But we can't send mother all round the world."

"We just don't want to," said Warren.

Mrs. Leverett smiled. She was proud of her ability in the culinary line.

Mr. Leverett looked at Doris presently. "Come, come," he began
good-naturedly, "this will never do! You are not eating enough to keep a
bird alive. No wonder you are so thin!"

"But I ate a great deal of breakfast," explained Doris with naive
honesty.

"And you are not homesick?"

Doris thought a moment. "I don't want to go away, if that is what you
mean."

"Yes, that's about it," nodding humorously.

Warren thought her the quaintest, prettiest child he had ever seen, but
he hardly knew what to say to her.

When the men had eaten and gone, the dishes were soon washed up, and
then mother and daughter brought their sewing. Mrs. Leverett was mending
Warren's coat. Betty darned a small pile of stockings, and then she took
out some needlework. She had begun her next summer's white gown, and she
meant to do it by odd spells, especially when Aunt Priscilla, who would
lecture her on so much vanity, was not around.

Mrs. Leverett gently questioned Doris--she was not an aggressive woman,
nor unduly curious. No, Doris had not sewed much. Barby always darned
the stockings, and Miss Easter had come to make whatever clothes she
needed. She used to go to Father Langhorne and recite, and Mrs. Leverett
wondered whether she and the father both were Roman Catholics. What did
she study? Oh, French and a little Latin, and she was reading history
and "Paradise Lost," but she didn't like sums, and she could make pillow
lace. Miss Arabella made beautiful pillow lace, and sometimes the grand
ladies came in carriages and paid her ever so much money for it.

And presently dusk began to mingle with the golden touches of sunset,
and Mrs. Leverett went to make biscuit and fry some chicken, and Uncle
Winthrop came at the same moment that a man on a dray brought an
old-fashioned chest and carried it upstairs to Betty's room. But Betty
had already attired Doris in her silk gown.

Doris liked Uncle Winthrop at once, although he was so different from
Uncle Leverett, who wore all around his face a brownish-red beard that
seemed to grow out of his neck, and had tumbled hair and a somewhat
weather-beaten face. Mr. Winthrop Adams was two good inches taller and
stood up very straight in spite of his being a bookworm. His complexion
was fair and rather pale, his features were o