"I call that rank disloyalty," cried Isolde with spirit. "After all we've stood from Huldah!" "What'll we do? Can't we make her come? Doesn't she owe us more consideration than her niece?" Trude put the letter down. "Huldah isn't disloyal. You know that, Isolde. And she doesn't owe us anything. Don't forget, Vick, that she worked for us for years for almost nothing when she could have gone anywhere else and received good pay. This house _is_ damp and big and Huldah is old. No, we can't beg her to come--over this. It was probably hard for her to refuse. I'll stay home with Sid. We'll have lots more fun here together than I'd have with Aunt Edith White on Long Island--in spite of the League. Will we not, Sid?" There was so much more sincerity in Trude's honest blue eyes than any suggestion of self-sacrifice that Sidney ran around to her and hugged her. She longed to tell Trude and the others of her own budding plans--only she had not received as yet an answer from Cousin Achsa. So all she could say was: "We just won't mind the League!" And then that very afternoon the postman, meeting her outside the wall, had handed her an envelope addressed to "Miss Sidney Ellis Romley" and postmarked _Provincetown_! Sidney ran with it straight to her attic retreat. Her heart within her breast hurt with its high hopes. There was a Cousin Achsa--her own letter had reached her and had been answered! She studied the unfamiliar writing on the envelope--it was a big sweeping script. The envelope felt fine and soft in her fingers and smelled faintly of a fragrance that was not of flowers and yet distinctly pleasant. Oh, this Cousin Achsa must be wealthy, like Pola! She broke the envelope and spread out the double sheet it contained. At its top she read, "My dear little Cousin." She paused long enough to wonder why Cousin Achsa thought that she was little. "My dear little Cousin: "Of course you may come to visit us. We shall enjoy learning to love a young cousin who must be delightful if we can judge from her letter. We blame ourselves and the miles that have separated us for not knowing anything of 'Sidney Ellis Romley' until yesterday, though we knew your mother in days long past. Will you write and tell us when we may expect you? Can a girl of fifteen find her way to this outlying bit of country? If you decide you cannot perhaps we can arrange for you to come with someone. We await your word with affectionate anticipation. "Your already loving cousin, "Achsa."