Mr. Gray began to go to town in the Sunday-night boat for two or three days of business, though he still spent the larger half of the week in Newport. Marian was sent to Lenox for a week's visit to an aunt. The family seemed very small now; and when Mrs. Gray one Monday morning announced her intention of running up to Boston next day for the night and taking Gertrude with her, Georgie loudly protested. "It is really cruel of you, mamma. Cannie and I will feel like two deserted little scraps, all alone in this big house. I do think you might wait till papa is at home. And there's Marian coming back to-morrow night. What on earth shall we do with her all day? She will feel dreadfully to find you gone." "I am sorry about Marian," confessed Mrs. Gray; "but Tuesday happens to be the best day for us on several accounts. You and Candace must be particularly good to her, and not let her feel aggrieved or forlorn. I have ordered the breakfasts and luncheons and dinner for to-morrow and Wednesday, so you will have no housekeeping to trouble you, and we shall be back at six o'clock, you know. Two days are but a short time, after all. You might ask a couple of girls to dine with you to-morrow,--any one you like." But Georgie seemed out of spirits. She was dull and dreamy, and said she didn't care to invite anybody,--she would rather have a nice lazy time by themselves, if Candace liked it just as well. Candace, who had made up her mind to the inevitable Berry Joy, was glad to be let off; so she spent a very quiet day, for Georgie went to her room as soon as lunch was over, to lie down, as she said, and sleep off a little headache, and Candace was left alone till nearly dinner-time.