There were three of us," she went on, in answer to the look of eager
interest in Mary's eyes. "Three girls who grew up together: Joyce Allen
(your sister is named for her), Elizabeth Lloyd, and myself. And now our
little daughters are to meet in the same dear old valley where we played
together and grew up together and learned to love each other like
sisters. I hope they will become as dear friends as we were."

Joyce looked up from her letter, her face aglow with joyful surprise.
"Oh, mother!" she cried, "do you really mean it? Is it possible that I
am to go? How can you afford it?"

Mrs. Ware motioned toward the envelope lying at Joyce's feet.

"Look again," she said, "and you will find that Mr. Sherman has sent a
pass. As for the clothes, well, your 'witch with a wand' has come to the
rescue again."

"Cousin Kate?" gasped Joyce.

Mrs. Ware nodded. "What would you think if I were to tell you that there
has been a box hidden away in my closet for nearly a week, waiting for
this letter, which I knew was on its way, and inside are the very
things you need to complete your summer outfit? There is a new hat, for
one thing, and material for several very pretty dresses."

Mary danced up and down, her hair ribbons bobbing over her shoulders,
and her face ashine, as she cried, "Oh, sister, isn't it lovely? I'm so
glad, I'm so glad, I'm so glad!"

But Joyce stood with her face suddenly grown serious and her lips