"Yes. And weren't you lucky?" observed Carolyn May. "For you might have found a boy, you know." She hoped the new Carolyn would be as happy as she had been for some months at the old homestead. On the very next morning the little girl began to run about the Corners to renew acquaintance with all the neighbours, while Prince chased ancient feline enemies and became friendly again with the dogs of the hamlet, which he had not seen for more than a year. Carolyn must needs search out Freda Payne, who had been her dearest school friend when she had attended the red schoolhouse; and with Freda she went to call on Miss Minnie, who had been their much loved teacher but was now married to the school committeeman who most frequently came to visit the school. "There!" said Carolyn May wisely. "I always thought something would come of _that_." Miss Minnie warmly welcomed Prince, as well as the little girls, for she had reason to feel friendly toward Carolyn's dog. Then, when dinner was over, and the baby was asleep, Carolyn and her "cayenne friend," as Chet Gormley had once called Prince, went over into the churchyard. Already the shadows of the church and its steeple had begun to lengthen. The windows of the minister's study looked out upon this quiet nook; chancing to glance up from his work the Reverend Afton Driggs saw a familiar little figure digging industriously with a trowel about the three little lozenge-shaped stones that marked the graves of Aunty Rose Kennedy's little ones who were too "puny" to grow up and around the bigger stone, "sacred to the memory of Frank Kennedy, beloved spouse." "If I believed in ghosts, I surely should think I saw one now," said the minister, putting his head out of the window. "Is it really, truly you, Carolyn May?" Carolyn laughed delightedly. Everybody seemed so glad to see her! She came to stand beneath the window and reached up to the minister a rather grubby hand. "And are you still in the 'Look Up' business, Carolyn May?" he asked. "Still brightening the world? Still seeing the sunshine and blue sky rather than the grey clouds and gloomy days?" "Why, Mr. Driggs!" cried Carolyn, aghast, "there aren't any such days. Leastways, I never see 'em. You know, there is always so much that's pleasant going on that I forget to think of anything unpleasant." Yet that was not altogether so. There was one thing deep in the child's heart that pricked her thought frequently. Hers was not a nature, however, to thrust her own troubles upon the attention of others. This particular thing was a very real trouble, nevertheless. She continued to think of the pale lady and her baby. That they should have to remain in the hot city and in that hopelessly uncomfortable apartment, caused the child positive heartache.