"That is it,--just that and nothing more. It isn't duty that bothers you--it is What-will-people-think? An exploded theory, nothing more." Then she smiled at her sister winsomely. "You positively are the sweetest thing, Winnie. And your Burton I absolutely love. And your babies are the most irresistible angels that ever came to bless and--enliven--a sordid world. But you are a family by yourselves. You are used to doing what you want, and when you want, and how you want. I would be an awful nuisance. When Burton would incline to a quiet evening, I should have a party. When you and he would like to slip off to a movie, you would have to be polite and invite me. Nobody could be crazier about nieces and nephews than I am, but sometimes if I were tired from my work their chatter might make me peevish. And you would punish them when I thought you shouldn't, and wouldn't do it when I thought you should, and think of the arguments there would be. And so we all agree, don't we, that it would be more fun for me to move off by myself and then come to see you and be company,--rather than stick around under your feet until you grow deadly tired of me?" "I do not agree," said Winifred. "I do," said Burton. "Then we are a majority, and it is all settled." "But where in the world will you live, dear? You could not stand a boarding-house." "I could if I had to, but I don't have to. I have been favored with an inspiration. I can't imagine how it ever happened, but perhaps it was a special dispensation to save you from me. I am going to live in my own house on Thorn Street. Of course it will be lonely there at first, since Aunt Eloise is gone--but just listen to this. I shall rent the down-stairs part to a small family and I shall live up-stairs. Part of the furniture I am going to sell, use what I want to furnish my dove cote in the clouds, and the rest that is too nice to sell but can't be used I shall store in the east bedroom, which I won't use. That will leave me three rooms and a bath--bedroom, sitting-room and dining-room. I can fix up a corner of the dining-room into a kitchen with my electric percolator and grills and things. Isn't it a glorious idea? And aren't you surprised that I thought of anything so clever by myself?" "Not half bad," said Burton approvingly,--for Burton had long since learned that the pleasantest way of keeping friends with in-laws is by perpetual approval. "But you can never find a small family to take the down-stairs part of the house," came pessimistically from Winifred. "Oh, but I have found it, and they are in the house already. A bride and groom. The cunningest things! She calls him Dody, and they hold hands. And I sold part of the furniture yesterday, and had the rest moved up-stairs. But there is one thing more."