“It’s so kind of you. John will appreciate it as much as I. But we really enjoy camping, and would not give it up even for those lovely rooms of yours, Cousin Chad. Thank you so much.” Cousin Jane’s rubicund complexion assumed a purplish hue. “Do you intend to kill that delicate child of Henry Bird’s, making him sleep out in the weather all summer?” she demanded. “No,” I said, considering; “I don’t intend to kill him, exactly. And he isn’t at all delicate.” “Well, he will be by the time you get through with him—if he ain’t dead,” broke in Cousin Chad. “Lyddy, it’s my duty to speak plainly, and I’ll not shirk it. Letitia spoiled you from the time you were born, and John Bird seems bent on keeping it up. David will pay the penalty for it. We do a very different part by the orphan the Lord made it our duty to take charge of, I can assure you. Caroline Wrenn’s health is taken care of, with a view to her future usefulness as a Christian. But of course you’ll stick to your own ways.—Well, I’ve warned you: my conscience is clear. Come, Jane: we’d better be going.” “I’m glad your conscience is clear, Cousin Chad. I know that’s a comfort to you, if I’m not. But we can be good friends, can’t we, even though our ideas are different?” “I shall not turn my back upon you if you’re in trouble, Lyddy, if that’s what you mean,” he answered. “I hope I know my duty better than that. But when you want help again you must ask for it. I don’t intend to offer it.” “That’s a bargain, then,” I said; “and we must both remember it.” Cousin Jane looked at me sharply, but Cousin Chad was already heaving her into the buggy, and she turned to get a good grip on the side. The vehicle creaked as she settled in it, and groaned when Cousin Chad sank beside her. “Good-bye, Lyddy,” she said. “We’ve done our best. I hope you won’t regret it.” This quite upset me, and after the cedars hid them I lay laughing until the thought of poor little Caro suddenly sobered me. What were they doing to Billy’s child? I must make friends with Cousin Jane, somehow, and entice the little thing over to Bird Corners as much as possible. There was no one else whom our erratic manner of life really scandalized, except Cousin Jason Blue; and he, as he took occasion to tell me when he met me out driving one day with Caro, never made a fool of himself like Chad Grackle by meddling. If a woman wanted to follow her nature and behave like a lunatic, and her husband chose to allow it, it was none of his business; so he shrugged his shoulders and passed on. Cousin Jason and the Grackles are the only kin I have in all Chatterton whose kinship I would discount if I could; but there is no denying they belong in the family. Cousin Chad’s father was my grandmother’s third half-cousin on my father’s side; and Cousin Jason’s mother was Cousin Lysander Hilliard’s step-daughter by his second marriage: there could scarcely be anything plainer than that.