"Why," replied Louis, a little awkwardly, "I might have gone; but, you see, when I wrote to father and mother about not getting along well and all that, and when Uncle Justus wrote about that time, you know when the boys were there, and said I ought to be in a regular boys' school, where I'd have companions, they concluded they'd send me to a military school next year. I'd like that; I'll learn to drill and have a fine time, with boys to play with all the time, although," he added, seeing a little hurt look on Edna's face, "to tell you the truth, Edna, if it hadn't been for you I don't know how I should have managed; we did have some good times, and you made me ashamed of myself lots of times; so I didn't get into trouble near as often as I might have done if you hadn't been there; but while you were away I couldn't stand it, and I really did think I'd run away—I should have stopped on the way to say good-by to you, though—but when father and mother came I forgot all about everything, you see. I tell you, you are a brick, and stood up for me like a Trojan. I told father and mother all about it."
Praise like this was very sweet to Edna.
"You stood up for me when that boy, that Phil Blaney, was so dreadful," she made answer.
"Ho! that was nothing, I found out what a mean sort of a chap he was that day, and I've not liked him since. I like Charlie Stabler much better. Say, how will you like living here?"
"What do you mean? Am I really to come back? Did you hear mamma say so? And you will not be here. O, dear!"
"I heard some talk of you all coming here to live."
"That was what papa meant then. O, I wish I knew."
"He's in the other room now talking to my father. Let's go ask him," and the children ran tumultuously in to Mr. Conway.
"Well, I'm thinking of it," was his reply to their questioning. "It looks now as if my business would bring me here."
"And we'll really all come here to live?" cried Edna.