"I reckon Bobby's done left us all, now that his paw is come," he said sadly to the sympathetic mule. But Bobby came running after him. "Hi there! Wait, Josh! Father says he would sooner trust his bones to us than that old Tin Lizzie. You'n him'n me can squzzle in on the front seat." "Sho' we kin!" declared the delighted Josh. He hadn't lost an old friend after all, but gained a new one. Mr. Carter proved even more agreeable to the little mountain boy than his idol, Lewis Somerville. He had such wonderful things to tell of ships and things and seemed to understand a boy so well. Mr. Somerville was right strict with a fellow, expecting him to be clean all the time and never forget, but somehow, Mr. Carter was a little easier. "You are frightfully burned, Douglas," complained Mrs. Carter as they finally got themselves stowed away in the faithful mountain goat. "I can't see why you do not protect your skin. Your neck will take months to recover from such a tanning." "Well, I don't think that will make much difference," laughed Douglas. "I fancy it will be many a day before I go décolleté." "I don't see that. If you are not going to college, I see no reason why you should not make your debut next winter." Douglas looked at her mother in amazement. Could it be that even now she did not understand? She said nothing, feeling that it would be wiser to wait until she and her mother were alone. Never having economized in her life, Mrs. Carter did not know the meaning of the word. The many parcels that were borne from the train gave Douglas a faint feeling. Had her mother been buying things in New York? "I brought you a perfect love of a hat, darling," Mrs. Carter chattered on, "but of course you shall have to bleach up a bit for it to be becoming to you. I did not dream you were so burned or I should not have selected such pale trimmings. I have a delightful plan! Since you are to come out next winter, I think a fortnight at the White in late August would be charming--give you that poise that debutantes so often lack. We can leave the children with your father and go together----" "But, mother----" "Oh, we shan't go quite yet! I know you want to see your father for a few days before you leave him even for a fortnight." Douglas was speechless; Nan, who was crowded in by her, gave her a sympathetic squeeze. "It is lovely to be with my girls again," the little lady bubbled on. "Of course your letter was a great surprise to me, Douglas. The idea of my children making money!" and she gave a silvery laugh. "I am delighted that you have, because now no doubt your coming out will be even more delightful than I had anticipated. Of course those persons who are in our house in Richmond will simply have to get out." "But, mother----" "Simply have to--how can a girl come out suitably unless she is in her own home?" CHAPTER III THE PROBLEM