Carolyn had become so fond of her little cousin at the Corners, Carolyn Amanda, that she missed her sorely. Now she revelled in the delights of Baby Laird's bath, of his being dressed fresh and sweet afterward, in the getting of him to sleep after his bottle, and finally in pushing him about in his carriage. It was while she was engaged in this last occupation one day, soon after she had taken up her abode in the cottage on the bluff, that she met again the man and his wife who had already so puzzled and interested her. She had wheeled Baby Laird down the long lane to the public road, and with Prince was about to turn around and retrace her steps, when a two-seated carriage drawn by a pair of sleek horses and driven by the liveried negro whom Carolyn had previously seen pushing the wheelchair on the sands, came suddenly into view around a spur of Beacon Hill. She knew the carriage came from one of the larger hotels. On the back seat were the man with whom she considered herself quite well acquainted, and his very unhappy looking wife. It seemed to the sunny-hearted Carolyn as though the poor lady needed cheering up, and she smiled up at her as the carriage came near with her very bravest smile. The woman in the carriage, who had been so languid and so distrait the moment before, became suddenly interested in Carolyn and the baby, and even the man sat up with quick attention and signalled the driver to stop. "Hullo!" the man said. "So I find you again, do I? Let me see: Your name is Carrie, isn't it?" "Carolyn May, if you please, sir," the little girl said. "To be sure! Carolyn May. And do you live away over here with your mamma?" "We do now, sir. Since the hotel got burned," explained the child. "Why! the little girl must have been turned out of the Truefelt House," said the woman, showing some interest. "And the baby!" "Oh, no, ma'am," said Carolyn May, politely but firmly. "Baby Laird wasn't in our hotel when it got burned. He was right up there, where mamma and I are staying now," and she pointed to the Ball cottage. "What a quaint old place," said the woman. But her gaze came back to the baby, who was awake and playing in his carriage. "Whose child is that, little girl? Is it your brother?" "Oh, no, ma'am. He's just a friend of mine," explained Carolyn May. The baby laughed up into the woman's face. He even dropped his rubber dog and put out his hands as though to be taken up. The woman in the carriage leaned forward, and for the moment the mask of discontent seemed to drop from her countenance. Even Carolyn saw the change and wondered. "The dear!" murmured the woman. "What an attractive child!" she added to her husband. "Do you know, he reminds me--Ah, see him laugh! Just as friendly as--as my baby used to be. Not afraid of strangers at all, is he?"