"It's a very nice letter--a--a cultured letter, don't you think so, Trude? Somehow I have always had the idea that these relations in the East--the Greens--were very poor and--well, uneducated. But this letter doesn't look like it. And they actually seem to _want_ Sidney to come!" "It's a long way--" Trude put in. "But I want to _go_ a long way. I don't just want to go to some place right near home--like Cascade. There's money enough--Nancy and I asked at the railroad station. And the man there gave me a timetable with all sorts of interesting pictures on it. It's the very most interesting place I ever heard of--it's an education. I want to go. I've--I've never been anywhere." Isolde was trying not to look as though this unexpected development of things was pleasing but she simply could not suppress the thought that in permitting Sid to go to these cousins lay their one chance of happy escape for their summer. After all--these Cape Cod relatives _were_ first cousins of their mother's, her very own people. She wished she could remember what her mother had told of them from time to time but it could not have been anything to their discredit or she would have remembered. And the letter, in its woody fragrance, the bold sweep of the handwriting, the expensive texture of the paper, bespoke culture, even wealth. However, with a lingering sense of duty, she reminded Sidney that this Cousin Achsa must be very old. As if that mattered! Sidney flung out an impatient hand. It was like Isolde to sit rock-fashion and trump up reasons why she'd better not go. But Vick came unexpectedly to her aid. "If she's old--all the better. She'll make Sid behave herself. I think this is the luckiest thing that could have happened. Now we can all go away. Sid wanted adventure--she'll have it with Cousin--what's her name?" Though she writhed under the tone in Vick's voice Sidney bit her lips over the retort that sprang to them. Anyway, she _would_ have her adventure. She wanted to go on the train all alone; the ticket office man had said it would be quite safe and had told her that he'd write something on a card that she could show to each conductor. She'd like not to have even to do _that_, for that seemed a little babyish. Trude had found a reassuring thought. "I'll be near enough, anyway, so that if Sid gets homesick or finds that things aren't just what she'd like them to be she can telegraph to me and come home. You will, won't you, kid?"