"I feel exactly as if I were getting a trousseau," Blue Bonnet said, as they started for a tailor's, where she was to be measured for suits. "And, Aunt Lucinda, there's just one more thing I want--two things! A desk and some books. You saw that desk in the room I am to have. Well, the cross--I mean Miss Cross--had her things in it. I saw them. I don't want to share it with her. We'd be forever getting mixed up and fussing. I'd like to avoid that." Miss Clyde remembered the check Mr. Ashe had sent--the half of which had not yet been spent, and the instructions that everything was to be provided for Blue Bonnet's happiness and comfort. Had she a right to refuse? She, too, wanted Blue Bonnet to be happy and comfortable, but her New England training from youth up made the lavish spending of money almost an impossibility. She greatly feared that the increased allowance Mr. Ashe had insisted upon giving Blue Bonnet for her private use at boarding-school, would inculcate habits of extravagance. After they left the tailor's a desk was soon found, suitable in every particular--mahogany, of course, since the other furniture in the room was. Coming out of the furniture store Miss Clyde and Blue Bonnet passed a floral shop. Blue Bonnet gave a little cry of surprise. "Look, Aunt Lucinda, there's Cousin Tracy!" She slipped up to him quietly, putting her arm through his. He turned in a dazed sort of fashion. "Well, well," he said. "Where did you come from?" "Woodford." "When, pray?" "Yesterday." Mr. Winthrop seemed surprised, and Miss Clyde made haste to explain. "Look here," he said, putting his hands on Blue Bonnet's shoulders and turning her toward the florist's window. A miniature football game was being shown in gorgeous crimson and gold settings. The field was outlined in flowers and the little men in caps and sweaters were most fascinating. Blue Bonnet gave his arm a squeeze. "It's the Harvard-Yale game, isn't it,--to-morrow? I'm crazy about it. Oh, I do hope Harvard wins! My father was a Harvard man. So are you, I remember." "Want to see it?" Cousin Tracy asked, as if seeing a Harvard-Yale game were the simplest thing possible. Blue Bonnet fairly jumped for joy. "Could I? Could we get tickets?" Cousin Tracy nodded and touched his breast pocket significantly. "I have two. Right by the cheering section." She crossed her hands in an ecstatic little fashion that expressed the greatest excitement and joy. "You wouldn't mind, would you, Aunt Lucinda? Why, the We Are Sevens wouldn't get over it in a week. It seems too good to be true." Before Miss Clyde and Blue Bonnet parted with Mr. Winthrop all arrangements had been completed, and Blue Bonnet walked away as if she were treading on air. That night the following letter found its way into the Boston mail: "COPLEY PLAZA HOTEL, BOSTON, MASS., "November 28th, 19--. "DEAREST UNCLE CLIFF:--