Ellen shrugged her shoulders. Why couldn’t Cousin Rindy give her the credit for having rather good judgment? However, she said nothing, but speeded her on her way, and then returned to Mabel, who had not risen for so early a breakfast as was necessary for Miss Rindy. “What a lazybones I am,” said Mabel as she came down to find Miss Rindy gone and Ellen finished with her breakfast. “Gran always indulged me, so that if I wanted to linger in bed she never said a word. I am afraid I am not sufficiently grateful to Gran, but I don’t know that girls usually possess that virtue. We take what is done for us as a matter of course, expect it as our right. You are the only truly grateful young person I know, Ellen.” “I? You don’t know me. I feel mighty sassy sometimes, and express my opinions accordingly, though I try never to forget what Cousin Rindy has done for me. If she were a really, truly parent, I might feel different, but as it is I consider that I would be a disgraceful ingrate if I lost sight of my benefits.” “Lots of girls wouldn’t be so particular. It isn’t the modern fashion to show respect to your elders. I know girls who call down their parents as if they were the children and the girls were the parents. Oh, yes; boys, too, generally think they know it all. They call any one of a past generation a back number, non-progressive, and all that. I don’t quite agree with Gran when she says: ‘Young people think old people are fools; old people know young ones are;’ that always makes me mad, chiefly, I suppose, because it is said at a time when I want my own way.” “I do suppose we should allow some value to experience,” replied Ellen thoughtfully. “How will you have your eggs, Mabel?” “Oh, you dear thing, are you attending to my breakfast? You have made fresh coffee and toast, too. Where is Beulah?” “She is attending to things up-stairs. You know I don’t mind doing such things for you, Mabel.” “Consider yourself kissed for that speech. The eggs? Oh, yes, suppose you scramble them; you always do them so beautifully that way.” “A bouquet for me in return for mine,” said Ellen laughing, as she went out to the kitchen. “What are we going to do with ourselves to-day?” she asked as she came back with the eggs. “Why, let me see. Oh, Ellen, why isn’t this just our chance to go to the haunted house?” “Of course; you’ve said it, child. By the way, have you heard that the polite young man of the post-office incident is not Robert MacDonald? He and some others are camping on a neighboring island. He just happened to be here that day.” “Who told you all that?”