"Dear Niece Elinor," read Mr. Walcott. "We were deeply grieved to hear of your protracted illness, and we are sure that if you were to be relieved of the care of one of the children your recovery would be rapid. Will you not send May to us for a fortnight? You need give yourself no uneasiness about the dear child's welfare; it will be Celia's and my pleasure to take the best care of her. Let us know by telegram when she will leave New York and we will make arrangements for her to come from the railway station by the stage that passes our door—the driver is a most reliable person. With best wishes for your speedy return to health, and with kind remembrances to Edward, in which Celia joins, I am, my dear niece,
"Your affectionate aunt,
"Beulah Linn."
"P. S. Celia suggests that you may think it odd that we have not included Gay in our invitation, but the truth is, we should not know what to do with a lively, noisy boy. We shall enjoy May very much if she is like Alice, wholly without those failings of modern childhood—a pert tongue, boisterous manners, and slang.
"B. L."
"Hazelnook, N. Y., Aug. 6, 19——."
"It is rather strange, isn't it, Edward, that the aunts will have none of Gay, while the uncle disdains May? It will break their hearts to separate them."
"It is better so, my dear. Doting father that I am I cannot deny that Gay and May make a team that gentle maiden ladies or a quiet old bachelor would find difficult to manage! Shall I go out now and wire our good relatives that they may expect the children to-morrow?"
"Yes," the Mistress replied, with a sigh of resignation. "And send Gay and May to me, please—they will receive their sentence of banishment best from my lips."