"Then I can't come again for four years," exclaimed Marjorie, with
an expression of consternation on her face.

"Not unless you come two at a time," said Grandma; "and I doubt if
your mother would consent to that."

"No, indeed," said Mrs. Maynard; "it's hard enough to lose one of
the flock, without losing two."

"Well, I'll have a good time with it this summer, anyway," said
Marjorie; "can't we unpack my trunk now, Mother, so I can put my
pearl pen in my desk; and my clock, that Rosy Posy gave me, on the
shelf; and hang up my bird picture on the wall?"

"Not just now," said her mother, "for it is nearly supper time,
and you must transform yourself from a wild maid of the woods into
a decorous little lady."

The transformation was accomplished, and it was not very long
before a very neat and tidy Marjorie walked sedately downstairs to
the dining-room. Her white dress was immaculate; a big white bow
held the dark curls in place, and only the dancing eyes betrayed
the fact that it was an effort to behave so demurely.

"Well, Midget," said Uncle Steve, as they were seated at the
supper table, "does the old place look the same?"

"No, indeed, Uncle; there are lots of changes, but best of all is
my beauty room. I never saw anything so lovely; I just want to