"Yes'm," said Mother Brace meekly, "but where would they get the three beds?"
"Why, I suppose they sleep on something now, though probably it wouldn't fit our clean barn; that's a fact."
For a moment Gerry looked crestfallen. Then she brightened again.
"Well, I can think that out, too, seeing I thought of the barn. The question is, mother, would you be willing to have them come!"
There was silence on the porch for a few minutes while Mother Brace watched the sunset over beyond the hills.
"It looks like the gates of the celestial city," she said at last, "where there are homes for everybody. Yes, Gerry, dear, I'd be willing to have them come, if there's anyway of fixing it."
Gerry squeezed the work-roughened hand that had slipped into hers.
"You blessed! Of course, I knew you would. Mother, I'm going to Aunt Serinda about the beds."
"Your Aunt Serinda?" Mother Brace gasped again. "Why, Gerry!"