could blame you!"

"Indeed they _can't_ blame her!" spoke up Mrs. Maynard; "the child
thought I was talking to Mrs. Corey, instead of reading my part in the
play. Marjorie sha'n't be blamed a bit!"

"That's just what I said," repeated Cousin Jack, smiling at the
mother's quick defense of her child; "why, if anybody told me I was
a,--what do you call it?--a findling,--I'd run away, too!"

"Don't run away," said Cousin Ethel, laughing. "I'd have to run with
you, or you'd get lost for keeps. And I'd rather stay here. But I think
we must be starting for Bryant Bower, and leave this reunited family to
get along for awhile without our tender care."

"But don't think we don't realize how much we are indebted to you," said
Mr. Maynard, earnestly, for the two good friends in need had been
friends indeed to the distracted parents.

"Well, you can have a set of resolutions engrossed and framed for us,"
said Cousin Jack, "or, better yet, you can give me a dollar bill, in
full of all accounts. By the way, Mehitabel, it's lucky you came home
from your little jaunt in time for your birthday. I incidentally learned
that it will be here soon, and we're going to have a celebration that
will take the roof right off this house!"

"All right, Cousin Jack; I'm ready for anything, now that I know I've
got a father and mother."

"And a brother," supplemented King, "and _such_ a brother!" He rolled
his eyes as if in ecstasy at the thought of his own perfections, and
Marjorie lovingly pinched his arm.

"And a couple of sisters," added Cousin Ethel; "I like to speak up for
the absent."

"Yes, and two dearest, darlingest cousins," said Marjorie, gleefully.
"Oh, I think I've got the loveliest bunch of people in the whole
world!"

CHAPTER XII

A LETTER OF THANKS

"Mother," said Marjorie, the next day, "what is a bread-and-butter
letter?"

"Why, dearie, that's a sort of a humorous term for a polite note of
acknowledgment, such as one writes to a hostess after making a visit."

"Yes, that's what I thought. So I'm going to write one to Mrs. Geary."

"You may, if you like, my child; but, you know your father gave those
old people money for their care of you."

"Yes, I know; but that's different. And I think they'd appreciate a
letter."

"Very well, write one, if you like. Shall I help you?"

"No, thank you. King and I are going to do it together."

"What did you call it, Mops?" asked her brother, as she returned to the