"Certainly, my dear boy," she answered with one of her sweetest smiles, "and I trust you will try to cultivate more kindly feelings toward your grandpa's sister and niece, for his sake, and because it is a Christian duty." Mr. Dinsmore and his party arrived that afternoon, and the next day were followed by Mrs. Conly and Virginia. "We thought we would give you a surprise," was the greeting of the former: "the heat and threats of yellow fever drove us North. I scattered the younger children about among other relatives, leaving several at your house, Adelaide, then came on here with Virgie, knowing that Elsie would of course have room enough for us two." "We will find room for you, Aunt Louise," Elsie said with pleasant cordiality, and trying hard to feel rejoiced at their coming. A very difficult task, as they never were at the slightest pains to make themselves agreeable, and the house was already comfortably filled. Edward waited only to shake hands hastily with his aunt and cousin, then slipped away for a solitary stroll on the beach while he should fight down his feelings of disgust and irritation at this unwelcome and unwarrantable invasion of his mother's dwelling. He had asked that morning if he might invite his college chum, Charlie Perrine, to spend a week or two with him, and had received a prompt and kind permission to do so. It seemed hard enough to have to entertain, instead, these relatives, between whom and himself there had always been a cordial dislike; for from early childhood he had perceived and strongly resented the envy, jealousy and ill-will indulged in by them toward his mother. He paced hurriedly to and fro for some minutes, striving, with but indifferent success, to recover his equanimity, then stood still, gazing out to sea, half inclined to wish himself on board an outward-bound vessel in the offing. Presently a hand took quiet possession of his arm, and turning his head he found his mother standing by his side. "I am grieved to see my boy's face so clouded," she said in her sweet and gentle tones. "Then, mother, it shall not be so any longer," he answered, resolutely forcing a smile. "I have been really trying to feel good-natured, but it is not easy under the circumstances. Not to me, I mean. I wish I had inherited your sweet disposition." "Ah, you can judge only from outside appearances," she said with a sigh and a smile; "no one knows what a battle his neighbor may be fighting in his own heart, while outwardly calm and serene. I know you are disappointed because you fear you must give up inviting your friend for the present, but that will not be necessary, my dear boy. We can still manage to make room for him by a little crowding which will hurt no one. My room is so large that I can easily take Walter and all your sisters in with me, and if necessary we will pitch a tent for the servants."