Blue Bonnet turned Chula sharply and headed toward home, forcing a little tune to her lips, a smile to her eyes, with a determination that would have done credit to a much older person. "Why, dearie, you did not ride far, did you?" was Grandmother's cheery welcome. "No, it was bleaker than I thought. The wind was cold, too, but it was refreshing just the same." Mrs. Clyde eyed her lovingly. Little tendrils from the fly-away hair strayed over her forehead and a healthy red showed through the tan of her cheeks. Her grandmother thought of a sweet wild rose just bursting into bloom as she looked at her. There was something about Blue Bonnet that breathed the spirit of all wild things--flowers and sweeping prairies, broad expanses. "There is a letter for you, Blue Bonnet. You must have known to have hurried so." "Why, it's from Uncle Cliff!" Blue Bonnet tore the end off of the envelope hastily and began reading aloud: "'I fear I cannot reach Woodford the day before Christmas as I had anticipated, Honey, because of a matter here which is delaying me, but I will arrive sometime on Christmas Day. Go right on with any plans you may have for that day, as trains are uncertain and I might get in very late. If I am not there in time to say "Merry Christmas," remember that I am saying it in my heart and wishing every happiness to the best little girl in the world. I shall answer your letter in person; we will discuss the room-mate at that time, and also the other matter which seems to lie so close to your heart.'" "He means Carita Judson," Blue Bonnet explained. "I told him how much I wanted her to go with me to Miss North's school." "'Remember me to your Grandmother and Miss Clyde, and tell them that I am anticipating my coming visit with pleasure. Enclosed you will find a little check for the Christmas shopping which I had hoped to enjoy with you, but since I cannot you must enjoy it for us both.'" "That's all. Isn't he a dear! Well, if he gets here on Christmas Day I sha'n't complain." Blue Bonnet handed the little pink slip of paper which had been enclosed in the letter, to her grandmother. "Take care of it for me, Grandmother. I don't need it any more than I do a sore thumb, as Uncle Joe used to say." Christmas week dawned bright and clear. Real Christmas weather, Blue Bonnet thought one morning as she opened her window and looked out at the trees in the apple orchard with their burden of glistening snow. Christmas was to be celebrated rather differently from last year. Since Uncle Cliff was not to arrive until Christmas morning, Blue Bonnet had been permitted to spend the preceding days much as she pleased, shopping, and enjoying the We Are Sevens' holidays with them. Two days before Christmas she bounded in to her grandmother's presence in a great state of excitement.