“I don’t remember, I wasn’t paying much attention, but I think she’s going to marry somebody. I was just beginning to listen when Grandma coughed, and they stopped talking.” By this time Dulcie had finished her letter, and all the children were looking much interested. “It must be Uncle Stephen,” said Dulcie. “Perhaps he told them that night before we came down-stairs. Oh, I do hope it is Uncle Stephen. It would be so lovely to have Miss Leslie for an aunt.” “It wouldn’t do us much good if they lived away off in California,” said Daisy, “but then they might come home sometimes, and invite us for a visit.” “It’s too bad you and Maud can’t go out,” remarked Paul, regarding Daisy sympathetically, as Dulcie and Molly went to the closet for their ulsters and rubber boots. “Don’t you suppose Grandma would let you if you teased?” “No indeed she wouldn’t,” laughed Daisy. “You don’t know Grandma very well if you think that. But we don’t mind staying in the house, do we, Maud?” “Not a bit,” said Maud, looking important and mysterious. “We’re going to do something very interesting while you’re out.” “What are you going to do?” inquired Paul, curiously. “I can’t tell; it’s a secret. It was my secret first, but we all know it now.” “I think you might tell me,” said Paul, beginning to look offended. “It isn’t polite to have secrets from your company.” Maud looked troubled, but Daisy hastened to intervene. “Girls have lots of secrets they don’t tell boys,” she said, pleasantly. “If you and some other boys had a secret, you wouldn’t tell us, you know you wouldn’t.” “Maybe I would, and maybe I wouldn’t. The trouble about telling girls things is they never can keep them to themselves.” “How about boys keeping things to themselves?” asked Daisy, at which seemingly innocent question Paul grew suddenly red, and no more was said on the subject of secrets. Mrs. Chester was waiting for them in the hall. She was looking rather worried. “Now, Paul, darling,” she began anxiously, as her small son came running down-stairs, followed by Dulcie and Molly, “you will promise Mother to be very careful about those dreadful crossings, won’t you? Take good care of him, Dulcie, and don’t let him attempt to cross while there is anything in sight.” “I’ll take care of him,” promised Dulcie, rather proud of the charge, and just then Grandma’s stern voice was heard from the head of the stairs. “Don’t be silly, Julia. Those children are quite capable of taking care of themselves. They are none of them babies. One would think to hear you talk that you considered that boy of yours either an infant or an idiot.” “Grandma is rather a sensible old lady, even if she does scold,” remarked Paul, as they ran down the steps. “Mother wouldn’t have let me go out at all if it hadn’t been for her.” “Grandma doesn’t believe in people making a fuss about things,” was Dulcie’s rather guarded reply, and Molly added, doubtfully: