Mrs. Winslow was in the kitchen, superintending the putting up of strawberry jam. She was in the midst of delivering a lecture to Bridget when Dulcie, flushed and panting, appeared in the doorway. “A telegram for you, Grandma,” she said, “and the boy says there’s ten cents to collect.” Grandma turned a trifle pale as she held out her hand for the envelope. Her thoughts instantly flew to a possible accident in the Chester family, or to her daughter Kate, who had gone away for a week’s visit to a friend. But her manner was apparently as composed as usual, as she took out her purse, and counted the change. “He will have to change a quarter,” she said. Dulcie hurried away, glad of the excuse to return with the change, and possibly learn the contents of the telegram. There was a strong probability that she would not be told, however, for Grandma and Aunt Kate were always silent about their affairs. She paid the messenger, received the correct change, and was on her way back to the kitchen, when she encountered her three younger sisters. “It was so exciting, we couldn’t wait any longer,” Molly explained. “What did Grandma say when she opened it?” “She hadn’t opened it when she sent me away,” said Dulcie, “but I’ve got to go back with the change, and perhaps she’ll tell me.” “We’ll come with you,” said Daisy, “but we’ll wait outside, so as not to seem too curious. If Grandma thought we were curious she wouldn’t tell us anything.” Accordingly, only Dulcie entered the kitchen, while the other three remained discretely in the background. Mrs. Winslow had evidently read her message, for the telegram was nowhere to be seen, and she was talking to Bridget, who looked as if she had heard something interesting. At Dulcie’s entrance, however, Grandma broke off abruptly in the middle of a sentence. “Here’s the change, Grandma,” said the little girl, “and--and I hope it isn’t any bad news.” “No,” said Mrs. Winslow, with a rather grim smile; “I don’t imagine you will consider it bad news. The telegram was from your father, and it was sent from Chicago. I have known for some time that he was on his way home, but thought best not to tell you sooner. You children get so excited over things, and you know how much I dislike a fuss.” “I’m rather glad Grandma didn’t tell us sooner,” remarked Dulcie, with a happy laugh. “I really don’t see how we could have lived if we had known Papa was on his way home, and not know how soon he would get here. Oh, girls, isn’t it the most glorious thing that ever happened?”