"Glen-Ridge?" said I interrogatively.

"I am afraid I shall have to be in my own home next summer," said
Jennie. "The mother cannot leave her nest to find a home among
strangers when God sends her a little bird to be watched and tended.
And I hope, John, God is going to send another little bird to our
nest this summer."

"You shall have your own home, Jennie dear," said I. "I will tell
the landlord to-morrow that we will keep it. But it is an
imposition."

"I am so sorry to give up our summer at Wheathedge," said she. "We
did enjoy ourselves so much, John, and Harry grew and thrived so."

"It can't be helped, Jennie," said I.

"No"--said she slowly, and as if thinking to herself; "no--unless we
took the Sinclair cottage for the summer."

"I hadn't thought of that," said I.

"What was the rent?" asked the diplomate. She knew as well as I did.

"Eight hundred dollars a year," said I.

"That is a clear saving of $1,700 a year," said Jennie.

"That's a fact," said I.