Sidney could not know that the highboy was priceless, that the two blue vases which Achsa had risked leaving on top of it had come from a Spanish port a century before, that the woven cover on the bed had the date of its making in one corner, that the hooked rug on the floor could have brought Achsa a hundred dollars any time she wanted to sell it; her eyes were too brimming with tears to notice the flowers that grew to her window-sill and peeped over it at her their bright heads nodding to the candle gleam. The lump that had been growing and growing mastered her. She drew a long-quivering breath. She had come all the way from home for _this_. _This_ was her great adventure! Oh, it was too humiliating, too cruel! That dreadful old woman--if she'd only had a broom she would have looked just like a witch. And in a few minutes she'd open the door and make her go out into the kitchen and eat supper with them. They were going to eat in the kitchen. She had seen the table. And the boarder--nice people in Middletown did not keep boarders. And, oh, that dreadful Lavender and his big eyes, staring at her--that was the cousin! And she could not telegraph Trude until tomorrow at the earliest-- She could not cry. She must not. If she began she'd never stop. She knew now that the tears had been starting deep down within her miles back on her long journey. Her teeth bit into her quivering lip. She went to the little window and leaned her face against its frame. The fragrant salt-laden air caressed her hot face and soothed her. "Shame on you, Sidney Romley," she finally muttered. "Remember you're fifteen. And you _wanted_ to come--no one made you! Anyway--" She addressed a rose that was wagging its pink head at her in an understanding way and that certainly had not been there a moment before! "Anyway, I'll bet it won't be a _bit_ worse than traveling with fat, cross old Godmother Jocelyn!" CHAPTER VIII MR. DUGALD EXPLAINS Sidney had fallen asleep on that first night at Cousin Achsa's with the resolution to escape at the earliest moment possible from her humiliating situation; she would telegraph Trude in the morning. But with errant sunbeams, as yellow as gold, dancing across one's face, with a tang of salt and pine in the air, fifteen is certain to rise up strong-hearted, despite all accumulated woe. Forgetting her bitter disappointment of the night before Sidney sprang from her bed and rushed to the window to look out upon her new surroundings. There was not really much she could see, for the lane turned at Mrs. Ephraim Calkins' house and beyond her house a hillock of sand rose steeply to an azure blue sky. But Aunt Achsa's riotous flowers were smiling their brightest, at the opening of the hedge crouched Nip and Tuck regarding the morning with dignified satisfaction, over everything shone the alluring sun.