"May I read Cousin Ann's aloud?" asked Nancy, who had her private reasons for making the offer. "Certainly," said Mrs. Carey unsuspectingly, as she took up the inevitable stocking. "I almost wish you had all been storks instead of chickens; then you would always have held up one foot, and perhaps that stocking, at least, wouldn't have had holes in it!" "Poor Muddy! I'm learning to darn," cried Kathleen, kissing her. LONGHAMPTON, NEW JERSEY, _June 27th_. MY DEAR MARGARET [so Nancy read],--The climate of this seaside place suits me so badly that I have concluded to spend the rest of the summer with you, lightening those household tasks which will fall so heavily on your shoulders. [Groans from the whole family greeted this opening passage, and Gilbert cast himself, face down, on his mother's lounge.] It is always foggy here when it does not rain, and the cooking is very bad. The manager of the hotel is uncivil and the office clerks very rude, so that Beulah, unfortunate place of residence as I consider it, will be much preferable. I hope you are getting on well with the work on the house, although I regard your treating it as if it were your own, as the height of extravagance. You will never get back a penny you spend on it, and probably when you get it in good order Mr. Hamilton will come back from Europe and live in it himself, or take it away from you and sell it to some one else. Gilbert will be home by now, but I should not allow him to touch the woodwork, as he is too careless and unreliable. ["She'll never forget that the bed came down with her!" exclaimed Gilbert, his voice muffled by the sofa cushions.] Remember me to Julia. I hope she enjoys her food better than when I was with you. Children must eat if they would grow. [Mother Carey pricked up her ears at this point, and Gilbert raised himself on one elbow, but Nancy went on gravely.] Tell Kathleen to keep out of the sun, or wear a hat, as her complexion is not at all what it used to be. Without color and with freckles she will be an unusually plain child. [Kathleen flushed angrily and laid down her work.] Give my love to darling Nancy. What a treasure you have in your eldest, Margaret! I hope you are properly grateful for her. Such talent, such beauty, such grace, such discretion-- But here the family rose _en masse_ and descended on the reader of the spurious letter just as she had turned the first page. In the amiable scuffle that ensued, a blue slip fell from Cousin Ann's envelope and Gilbert handed it to his mother with the letter. Mrs. Carey, wiping the tears of merriment that came to her eyes in spite of her, so exactly had Nancy caught Cousin Ann's epistolary style, read the real communication, which ran as follows:--