well enough to go, Adele?"

"Oh, I'm all right now, Bee. Papa came home early with a box of
chocolates, and that seemed to be just what I needed."

Bee laughed.

"You butterfly," she said. "Always feeding on sweets. Did you leave me
any?"

"Well--" Adele Raymond hesitated. "Not many, and that's a fact, Bee. You
shouldn't have kept me waiting so long. And you haven't even noticed
that I have on a new hat."

"But I thought that yours had violets on it," remarked Bee as she
glanced at the hat. "That has red roses."

"Well, this one is yours, goosey. You're a funny girl, Bee, not to know
your own hat. I have been trying mine on, then I thought I'd wear yours
to meet you. And oh, Bee! the pictures have come too."

"What? Our photographs?" exclaimed Bee eagerly.

"Why Aunt Annie thought that we wouldn't have them for a week yet.
Where are they, Adele?"

"In the library. I never knew you to be so concerned about your picture
before, Bee."

"I am going to send one to father," observed Bee as she hurried into the
house. "It's come just in time to go out with the letter."

"But do come up stairs first, Bee, and see my new hat. Wouldn't you like
to see it?"

"I'd rather see the pictures," answered Bee making a dash for the
library, flinging her hat in one direction and her books in another as
she did so.

"Mamma won't like it if she sees your things lying about," observed her
cousin following her into the library.

"I'll pick them up just as soon as I see the photographs," said Bee
impatiently as she took up the pictures.

"Oh, Adele! how pretty you do look in yours; but mine--Oh, dear! it
certainly leaves much to be desired."

"Mamma said that your good looks lay in your expression," remarked her
cousin. "That is what makes it so hard to get a good picture of you,
Bee. You are not going to send it to Uncle William, are you?"

"Yes," answered Bee with determination. "I never would send one before
because I always hoped to get a good one, but tonight Sue Ford asked me
if I thought he would know me if he were to meet me unexpectedly, and I
am going to make sure of it. Now, if you don't mind, Adele, I'll begin
my letter at once."

"Oh, Bee. I have been so lonely and dull," pleaded Adele. "Must you
write it this very minute?"

"If I don't he won't hear from me at all this month, and father insists
on hearing once a month. It is such a little thing to do for him, and I
love to please him. It won't take me lon