"Very true, my love," answered Margaret. "But we are as nearly related to you as Aunt Zoe, and we have a kind of right to help in your education. We have written to her about the matter, and she has given her consent. At first, mamma thought she would like to have you at school here, so as to be near us; but you seem to be doing so well where you are, that it hardly seems worth while to change. So, if you will give us half your holidays and half your letters, we shall be quite content. My dear little girl, what is the matter?" For two large tears came splashing down right into Percy's coffee cup.
"Nothing; only,—only you are so good, and I was so naughty and silly about coming here. I didn't want to come; and I thought Aunt Ackerman would be exactly like a New York aunt in a story-book! I was just as ungrateful as I could be."
"But, my dear, you couldn't be ungrateful for what you never had," said Mrs. Ackerman, soothingly. "You did not know us at all then."
Percy's Holidays.
"The girls say I am always borrowing trouble, and so I am."
"Well, I needn't have been so foolish," answered Percy, wiping her eyes. "Jenny said it was silly, and it was; and I am sorry. The girls say I am always borrowing trouble, and I am."
At that moment, Sylvester brought in a letter, which Margaret opened.
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed, as she glanced over it. "Mamma, Cousin Sarah is coming to-morrow, to stay a week!"
Mrs. Ackerman sighed gently. "Well, my dear, you know she must be somewhere; and if we only have her a week, we shouldn't complain."