"Of course, my dear, there is nobody but your Aunt Euphemia for you to go
to!"

"Oh, daddy-professor! Nobody? Can we rake or scrape up no other
relative on either side of the family who will take in poor little me for
the summer? You will be home in the fall, of course."

"That is the supposition," Professor Grayling replied, his lips pursed
reflectively. "No. Dear me! there seems nobody."

"But Aunt Euphemia!"

"I know, Lou, I know. She expects you, however. She writes----"

"Yes. She has it all planned," sighed Louise Grayling dejectedly.
"Every move at home or abroad Aunt Euphemia has mapped out for me. When
I am with her I am a mere automaton--only unlike a real marionette I can
feel when she pulls the strings!"

The professor shook his head. "There's--there's only your poor mother's
half-brother down on the Cape."

"What half-brother?" demanded Louise with a quick smile that matched the
professor's quizzical one.

"Why----Well, your mother, Lou, had an older half-brother, a Mr. Silt.
He keeps a store at Cardhaven. You know, I met your mother down that way
when I was hunting seaweed for the Smithsonian Institution. Your
grandmother was a Bellows and her folks lived on the Cape, too. Her
family has died out and your grandfather was dead before I married your