MARIAN asked no questions the following morning until she was on her way to the station with Uncle George. "Where am I going?" she finally ventured. "Where you passed the summer last year," was the reply. "How does that suit you?" "Suit me," repeated Marian, "nothing ever suited me better. I'm pretty glad I'm going there. Why didn't you send me back to school, Uncle George? School won't be out for two months. I'm glad you didn't, but why?" "Well, sis, you told me you wanted to go to the country school." "Yes, but----" "Now's your chance," interrupted the man, "learn all you can and try to do some one thing better than any one else in school, will you?" "Well, but Uncle George, big boys and big girls go to country schools." "What of it, Marian? You do some one thing better than any one else in school, and when you come home this fall you may choose any book you wish at the book store, and I will buy it for you." "But, Uncle George, how will you know whether I really do something better than any one else or not?" "I'll take your word for it, Marian." "My word is true," the child remarked with dignity. "No doubt about it," added Uncle George, turning away to hide a smile. Just as the train pulled into the station, Marian caught a glimpse of a small blue butter-fly. It fluttered away out of sight as Uncle George said "good-bye." "Oh, I hate to leave that butter-fly," exclaimed Marian, and those were the last words Uncle George heard as he left her. The passengers smiled, but Uncle George looked thoughtful. There was so much to be seen from the car windows and so many folks to wonder about within the car, the journey seemed short. Two young ladies welcomed Marian at the train, hugging and kissing her the minute the small feet touched the platform. "I guess folks will think you're some relation to me," laughed the child. "So we are," replied Miss Ruth Golding. "We are your cousins." "Certainly," agreed Miss Kate, "your Uncle George knew us when we were little girls, so of course we are your cousins." "Of course!" echoed Marian, "and I know my summer of happiness has begun this day in April." "Your troubles have begun, you mean," warned Miss Ruth; "the school-teacher boards with us and you'll have to toe the mark." "Oh, goody!" exclaimed Marian. "I can walk to school with her." "You won't say 'goody' when you see the lady," predicted Miss Kate. "She's as sober as a judge, very quiet, and keeps to herself." "What's the matter with her?" asked Marian. "She's lived in the city all her life and eaten books," explained Ruth. "She eats them, Marian, covers, binding, pictures and everything. Too bad, but maybe you'll get used to it. Here is mother coming to meet you, and here comes Carlo."