d relief crossed Cordelia's face.

"Thank you, Mr. Nolan, very much," she faltered, as she hurried after
her companions.

"I don't know whether I'm glad or sorry," she was thinking. "Of course
'twould have been nice if he'd been John Sanborn, only I'm afraid Hermit
Joe wouldn't like a cowboy for a son, specially as there wouldn't be
anything for him to do in Sunbridge at his trade."

Mrs. Kennedy announced soon after supper that she should take matters in
hand very sternly that night and insist upon an early bedtime hour.

"It has been a long, hot, fatiguing day," she said, "but you are all so
excited you'd sit up half the night asking questions and telling
stories; so I shall take advantage of my position as chaperon, and send
you to bed very soon."

"O dear!" sighed Tilly. "If only it would come morning quick! Just
think, we've got to wait a whole night before we can do any of the
things we're dying to do!"

"Never mind; there are lots of days coming," laughed Mr. Hartley. "What
a fine family of young folks I have, to be sure," he gloried, looking
around him contentedly.

They were all about him on the front gallery, in hammocks and chairs, or
sitting on the steps; and a very attractive group they made, indeed.

"I think it would help the waiting if Genevieve would go in and sing to
us," suggested Bertha, after a moment's silence. "It will be so heavenly
to sit out here and listen to it!"

"Oh, sing that lovely Mexican 'Swallow Song,'" coaxed Elsie. "'_La
Gol--_' _--Gol_-something, anyhow."

"Don't swear, Elsie," reproved Tilly, with becoming dignity.

"_'La Golondrina'?_" laughed Genevieve.

"Yes, it's a dear," sighed Elsie.

"I'd rather have that Creole Love Song that you say Mammy Lindy taught
you," breathed Cordelia. "That would be perfect for such a scene as
this."

"Pooh! I'd rather have one of those tinkly little tunes where you can
hear the banjos and the tambourines," averred Tilly.

"Indeed! At this rate I don't see how I'm going to sing at all," laughed
Genevieve, "with so many conflicting wishes. Anything different anybody
wants?"

"Yes," declared Mr. Hartley, promptly. "I want them all."

"Of course!" cried half a dozen voices.

"All right!" rejoined Genevieve, laughingly, springing to her feet.

And so while everybody watched the stars in the far-reaching sky,
Genevieve, in the living room, played and sang till the back gallery and
the long covered way at the rear of the house wer