They were so poor in clothes--pathetically shabby, and yet they went in
the very best society. Father used to make us laugh by his funny
descriptions of the ladies at dinners. At the same affairs would be
Thomas Carlyle, and just think, these poor people--he was a parson,
lived on the very ground that was once part of the garden of Sir Thomas
Moore. Father saw the famous mulberry trees there, that so much has been
written about. I hope I may be able to go there some time--we have
relatives in England."

"I would not care to travel," said Tavia impatiently. "This seems a long
enough trip for me."

"Only two more stops," said Dorothy as the train rattled past the
stations. "Oh, I shall be so glad to see them all."

"And lonesome for the Cedars after you have seen them all," Tavia
hinted. "That's the worst of it, home is always with us--"

"Get your hat box down," Dorothy interrupted. "We are slackening up
now."

"Dalton! Dalton!" called the brakeman at the door, and the next minute
the girls were being kissed heartily by Joe, Roger and Johnnie, "the
committee on arrival," as Tavia said. The lads were fully qualified to
carry off the honors in the way of boxes and small bundles.

"How is Aunt Libby?" asked Dorothy as soon as she could say anything
relevant.

"Better," said Joe, "but father does not feel well--you are not to