her--a small box," I added hastily.

"The carriages have come, dears," quavered grandmamma, coming out of
the nursery, followed by the family, one after the other.

"Get her satchels, Teddy. Her hat is upstairs. Her flowers are in the
hall. She left her ulster on my bed, and her books are on the
window-sill," said mamma. She wouldn't look at me. "Remember, dearie,
your medicines are all labelled, and I put needles in your work-box
all threaded. Don't sit in draughts and don't read in a dim light.
Have a good time and study hard and come back soon. Good--bye, my
girlie. God bless you!"

By this time no handkerchief would have sufficed for my tears. I
reached out blindly, and Ted handed me a towel.

"I've got a sheet when you've sopped that," he said. Boys are such
brutes.

Aunt Lida said, "Good-bye, my dearest. You are my favorite niece. You
know I love you the best."

I giggled, for she tells my sister the same thing always.

"Nobody seems to care much that I am going," said Bee, mournfully.

"But you are coming back so soon, and she is going to stay so long,"
exclaimed grandmamma, patting Bee.

"I'll bet she doesn't stay a year," cried Ted.