sorrowful Sister curled up in a forlorn little heap on the bed.

"My blue dress is way down in the laundry," she wailed. "The
buttons are in the pocket. Oh, Mother, it's awful far down there,
and it's dark on the stairs!"

"What's all the racket about?" inquired Ralph, coming to the door.
"Is Sister crying? And Dick is trying to smooth down Nina Carson,
who seems to be in a bad way. Want any help with these young ones,
Mother? Anyway, tell a fellow the cause of the excitement."

Sister smiled through her tears. "Young ones" was what Molly's
country sister had once called them, and Ralph always said it when
he meant to make her laugh.

"I really think Sister should go down and get the buttons from her
dress pocket," said dear Mother Morrison decidedly. "I have
forbidden her, time and again, to touch anything in Dick's room.
Take your kimona and slippers, Sister, and hurry; I'll have your
bath ready for you when you come back."

More tears ran down Sister's round cheeks. Her eyes were so full
of salt water she couldn't find the armholes of her pink kimona,
and Ralph had to help her.

"I'll go with her, Mother," he offered. "I'll sit on the stairs
and wait while she hunts for the buttons; and after this you--will
leave Dick's things alone, won't you, Sister?"

Sister promised joyfully, and paddled off downstairs with Ralph.