"Blackening the stove particularly," added Rob. "I find now that, on the whole, I hated most of all to blacken the stove." "Well, I find that what I hated most was what I happened to be doing," remarked Prue. "You're not to think that we are living in idleness, Cousin Peace," Wythie said, as they led the gentle Cousin Charlotte into the house. "There's only one of Lydia, and one person can't do it all, but it is such a relief to have 'help'!" "There's enough to be done in any house; I understand, lassies," said Miss Charlotte. "But you were tired lassies, and I am more glad than you know to see your burdens lifted--still more glad for your mother, because I know how happy Sylvester would be--is--to see her resting." "Oh, I know that, too, Cousin Peace!" cried Rob. "I know how Patergrey felt about 'pretty Mary Winslow,' as he called her to me, having had a hard life because she married him. I'm beginning almost to be glad--though I miss him most of us all--that he won his fight just as he did; I know he would have chosen it so." "And I'm beginning to feel as though he had not gone away at all," said Wythie, softly; "as though all this comfort and greater ease were he himself, his love and presence around us, and that in having it we had him. I can't explain, but it is such a comfort!" "I can understand that, dear Wythie," said Cousin Peace. "Aunt Azraella is coming over to luncheon, and to teach Lydia her famous short-cake," said Rob, after a little pause, as they halted before their mother's door. "She does make wonderful strawberry short-cake, and we are going to stun the Baldwins with it. And she's quite a different Aunt Azraella. She has such a respect for bonds and stocks and coupons, and such little appurtenances, that she regards us through the rose-colored glasses of an invested fifty thousand dollars. She never criticises us--you see we can afford to do what we please--and her respectful manner to me beggars description. Oswyth is nowhere now; flighty Roberta is her favorite niece, all because of my obstinacy and defiance of her opinion! But I stand for the source of gold, and she regards me no longer as fighting 'Bobs,' but as a sort of Kimberley." "Oh, Rob!" exclaimed Wythie, "don't hunt for motives! It's so much pleasanter to take people at their face value, when it doesn't matter. And Aunt Azraella is really quite nice now, Cousin Peace." She opened her mother's chamber-door as she spoke, and Mrs. Grey sprang from her big chair to fold in a close embrace her husband's nearest of kin and most of kind. "Try to bear up under the infliction, Mardy," said incorrigible Rob. "We know you are afflicted when Cousin Peace comes, but don't let her see it so plainly." For Mrs. Grey was radiating the pleasure she felt in the coming of sweet Miss Charlotte.