Max and Lulu, quite forgotten for the moment by their father and Violet, and much troubled about their little sister, would have felt very forlorn, had not Harold, Herbert, and Rosie set themselves, with the true politeness to which they had been trained, to making the little strangers comfortable and at home.
They seated them in the veranda, where they could enjoy the breeze and a view of the sea, and talked to them entertainingly of the various pleasures—bathing, boating, fishing, etc.—in store for them.
Presently Mr. Dinsmore came out with a prescription which he asked Harold to take to the nearest drug-store.
"May I go too, sir?" asked Max. "Wouldn't it be well for me to learn the way there, so that I can do the errand next time?"
"That is well thought of, my boy," Mr. Dinsmore said, with a pleased look. "But are you not too tired to-night for such a walk? it is fully a quarter of a mile."
"No, sir, thank you; a run will do me good after being so long cramped up in the cars."
"Ah," Mr. Dinsmore said, taking Max's hand and shaking it cordially, "I think I shall find you a boy after my own heart—active, independent, and ready to make yourself useful. Shall I number you among my grandchildren?"
"I shall be very happy to have you do so, sir," returned Max, coloring with pleasure.
"Then henceforth you may address me as grandpa, as these other young folks do," glancing at Rosie and her brothers. "You also, my dear, if you like," he added, catching Lulu's dark eyes fixed upon him with a half eager, half wistful look, and bending down to stroke her hair caressingly.
"Thank you, sir," she said, "I think I shall like to. But oh, tell me, please, is Gracie very sick?"