"No, grannie, she will have to do something; for Miss Franklyn can manage all the housekeeping. I _think_ Elsa hopes some day that she might be a nurse in a children’s hospital, but she has not said anything about it lately." "Sensible girl. Now get the book, Monica, and we will have some reading." It was not until the twins’ birthday that Monica realised what all her grandmother’s questions were aiming at, and then she understood! "What time do the girls come, Monica," asked Mrs. Beauchamp, as they sat longer than usual over their breakfast, there being no need to hurry, for Saturday was a whole holiday. Monica looked up in surprise, for it had been all arranged before that the Franklyns should come at eleven, and remain the whole day at Carson Rise, in order that their birthday might not be spent among surroundings which would remind them continually of their loss. Amethyst Drury had been invited, too. "At eleven, granny." "Oh, yes, of course. How are you going to amuse yourselves, Monica?" "I don’t know, I’m sure, grannie; we might get a game of croquet-golf, or tennis, if the grass is dry enough." And Monica looked critically out upon the beautiful lawn, which was the pride of the gardener’s heart. "I have secured a new ’amusement’ for you," said Mrs. Beauchamp, her eyes twinkling with fun. "I was going to say ’game,’ but it is hardly that." "What can it be? Not badminton?" queried Monica, all excitement. "No, not badminton," repeated her grandmother, with a smile. "I hardly think you will guess, so as soon as you have finished breakfast we will go and see it." "I finished ages ago," said Monica, as she pushed back her chair with alacrity; "I am curious, grannie." And she slipped her arm through the old lady’s (a favourite habit nowadays), and they went together to a large summer-house where the croquet and tennis sets were kept. "Is it a small game, or whatever you call it, grannie?" "Not very small," was the amused reply, "but here we are, and you can judge for yourself." She fitted a key in the lock, and opened the door, and Monica gazed in utter astonishment at what she saw; for, resting on its own stand in the middle of the quaint, octagonal summer-house, was a beautiful, perfectly new bicycle! [Illustration: "MONICA GAZED IN UTTER ASTONISHMENT."] "Oh, grannie!" Only an exclamation, but who can describe all that was contained in those two words? and Monica almost squeezed the breath out of the old lady’s body with the energy with which she hugged her. "There, there, that will do, Monica; don’t quite strangle me," protested Mrs. Beauchamp; but all the same, she keenly enjoyed her grandchild’s unqualified delight. "Do you like it?" she added, as Monica examined and admired the bicycle to her heart’s content. "I can’t _think_ why you have given it to me, grannie!" was the answer, if answer it could be called.