"It will not be for very long,--it can't be," said Mrs. Carey wistfully. "The telegram only said 'symptoms of typhoid'; but these low fevers sometimes last a good while and are very weakening, so I may not be able to bring father back for two or three weeks; I ought to be in Fortress Monroe day after to-morrow; you must take turns in writing to me, children!" "Every single day, mother!" "Every single thing that happens." "A fat letter every morning," they promised in chorus. "If there is any real trouble remember to telegraph your Uncle Allan--did you write down his address, 11 Broad Street, New York? Don't bother him about little things, for he is not well, you know." Gilbert displayed a note-book filled with memoranda and addresses. "And in any small difficulty send for Cousin Ann," Mrs. Carey went on. "The mere thought of her coming will make me toe the mark, I can tell you that!" was Gilbert's rejoinder. "Better than any ogre or bug-a-boo, Cousin Ann is, even for Peter!" said Nancy. "And will my Peter-bird be good and make Nancy no trouble?" said his mother, lifting him to her lap for one last hug. "I'll be an angel boy pretty near all the time," he asserted between mouthfuls of apple, "or most pretty near," he added prudently, as if unwilling to promise anything superhuman in the way of behavior. As a matter of fact it required only a tolerable show of virtue for Peter to win encomiums at any time. He would brush his curly mop of hair away from his forehead, lift his eyes, part his lips, showing a row of tiny white teeth; then a dimple would appear in each cheek and a seraphic expression (wholly at variance with the facts) would overspread the baby face, whereupon the beholder--Mother Carey, his sisters, the cook or the chambermaid, everybody indeed but Cousin Ann, who could never be wheedled--would cry "Angel boy!" and kiss him. He was even kissed now, though he had done nothing at all but exist and be an enchanting personage, which is one of the injustices of a world where a large number of virtuous and well-behaved people go unkissed to their graves! "I know Joanna and Ellen will take good care of the housekeeping," continued Mrs. Carey, "and you will be in school from nine to two, so that the time won't go heavily. For the rest I make Nancy responsible. If she is young, you must remember that you are all younger still, and I trust you to her." "The last time you did it, it didn't work very well!" And Gilbert gave Nancy a sly wink to recall a little matter of family history when there had been a delinquency on somebody's part. Nancy's face crimsoned and her lips parted for a quick retort, and none too pleasant a one, apparently. Her mother intervened quietly. "We'll never speak of 'last times,' Gilly, or where would any of us be? We'll always think of 'next' times. I shall trust Nancy next time, and next time and next time, and keep on trusting till I can trust her forever!"