The village in which Cyril Heath was settled was a manufacturing one, and full of activity. His house was a large, old-fashioned, ugly structure; but he and Belle together had made it home-like and pretty within doors, and as no part of it was kept in state and shut up, it smiled a welcome to every guest. Belle was awaiting her mother with a baby on each arm, and a face all smiles and delight. She let the three children loose into the garden immediately, where they were soon joined by Mr. Heath, who chased them up and down the walks with all the joyousness of a boy. "It's splendid here," said Frank, Jr. "I never mean to live in a city again." "Nor I," said Cil. "Is it as pretty as this at grandma's?" asked Gabrielle. "It's a thousand times prettier," replied Mr. Heath. "Have you never been there in the summer?" "No; only at Christmas, and at aunty Maud's funeral." "Oh! then you have a great pleasure before you. Have you all had gardens?" "No, no, indeed!" "You boys must have some at once." "To dig in ourselves? How jolly!" "Would you like to see my workshop?" asked their uncle. Wouldn't they, though? _Any_ thing to work off their steam! Taking twenty steps when one only was needed, they scampered at his heels, and arrived, breathless, at a small room in which was a carpenter's bench in perfect order, a turning-lathe, and other objects, as new to the boys as Paradise was to Adam. "Now, I sha'n't want you fellows meddling with my tools," said Mr. Heath, as the children began to finger and play with whatever they could lay hands on. "Useful things are not meant for toys. I shall have another bench made adapted to your height, and whenever you give your aunty special pleasure, shall give you a tool, till you acquire all you need." "Papa hasn't any workshop," said Frank. "But he's got a bank," said Cil. "Have you a bank, uncle?" Mr. Heath replied that he had not that article, which greatly relieved the two. While this was going on, Mrs. Grey was admiring the babies, lovely little creatures as need be, and rejoicing over Mabel. "You will have a hard time with the boys, I am afraid," she said. "Poor Lily was no more fit to grapple with them than if they were giants." "I suppose it will be hard, at first. But I already love them with a new kind of love--the love of possession. To all intents and purposes, they are mine now. How nice it was that Laura was at Greylock when you left! You wouldn't have liked to leave Margaret alone so many weeks. To be sure, she could have come here." "Not very well, because of her lessons." "True; I had forgotten that. Now come upstairs, please, and look at the boys' room." "Why, you _witch_!" cried Mrs. Grey, "when did you do all this?" For the room was not only neat and fresh and home-like; it was adorned with illuminations, pretty engravings, and other agreeable objects which had cost, not much in money, but a great deal in time.