"And isn't it great that your father has no more heart attacks?" added Basil, desiring to contribute his underscore mark to some item of cheer on the page of life the Greys were at present conning. "It's wonderful, too," said Wythie, "for he works as hard as though Dr. Fairbairn had never warned him--but he doesn't look well." "I think you can earn money, Rob; I think I know a way for you to do it," said Frances. "I've been wondering if it were possible, and I'll talk to mamma to-night--it needs her help--and then to-morrow I'll come to talk to you about it." "So cheer up, Grey sisters; this is your last pull," said Basil. "I wonder if it is," said Wythie, watching the strong, steady strokes as The Graces sped up the river under Basil and Bartlemy's rowing. "Oh, no; there's Indian summer to come; we'll row lots of times this year, and all next season. I did not mean this kind of pull," smiled Basil. "I know. Where are you taking us?" asked Wythie; she could not bear just then to hear an allusion to another year. "Up here to a tree which we discovered yesterday, and which other little boys haven't discovered--it's full of chestnuts," said Bruce. The boat glided toward the right bank, crowned by flaming maples, and into a narrow creek, so narrow that the boys had to draw in their oars and pull The Graces along by the shrubs on either hand. They stopped directly under a great chestnut-tree, and Bruce cried, pointing triumphantly to the branches crowded with opening burs: "There! Isn't truth more chestnutty than fiction?" "Why didn't you tell us?" asked Rob, reproachfully. "We could have gone back for something to put them in." Forgetting poverty for the moment in the riches provided by nature and autumn, Wythie and Rob climbed cheerfully over the side of the boat, and taking off their jackets began filling them with chestnuts as eagerly as if they had been squirrels dependent upon them for their winter existence. There was little time to get many of the satiny nuts, for the Greys were impatient to learn the fate of the little grey house, and to console their mother, who would need consolation for whatever decision had been reached. Regretfully they turned their backs on the wealth of nuts and the beautiful, peaceful spot, with its gorgeous colors, and damp, delicious odors.