"You're a dear girl! And they won't stay long, of course--especially when they see how crowded we are. You'll like Thorne Lee, Charlotte; he's one of the best fellows alive. I haven't seen the sister since she was a small child, but if she's anything like her brother you'll have no trouble entertaining her, sick or well. All right! I'll answer Lee's letter, and say nothing about our being full-up." "Of course not; that wouldn't be hospitality. When will they come?" "In a day or two--as soon as she feels like travelling again." "I'll be ready for her," and Charlotte gave him her brightest smile as he hurried off. She finished her bed-making, put the little room set apart for her own private den into guest-room condition as nearly as it was possible to do with articles of furniture borrowed from next door, and went down to break the news to Mrs. Fields. She found that person explaining with grim patience to the Peyton children why they could not make candy in her kitchen at the inopportune hour of ten in the morning. "But we always do at home!" complained Lucy, with a frown. "Like as not you don't clear up the muss afterward, either," suggested Mrs. Fields, with a sharp look. "Course we don't," Randolph asserted, with a curl of his handsome upper lip. "What's servants for, I'd like to know?" "To make friends with, not to treat impolitely," said a clear voice behind the boy. Randolph and Lucy turned quickly, and Mrs. Fields's face, which had grown grim, softened perceptibly. Both children looked ready to make some tart reply to Charlotte's interpolation, but as their eyes fell upon her they discovered that to be impossible. How could one speak rudely when one met that kind but authoritative glance? "This is Mrs. Fields's busiest time, you know," Charlotte said, "and it wouldn't do to bother her now with making candy. In the afternoon I'll help you make it. Come, suppose we go for a walk. I've some marketing to do." "Ran can go with you," said Lucy, as Charlotte proceeded to make ready for the trip. "It's too cold for me. I'd rather stay here by the fire and read." Charlotte looked at her. Lucy's delicate face was paler than usual this morning; she had a languid air. "The walk in this fresh November breeze will be sure to make you feel ever so much better," said Charlotte. "Don't you think so, Cousin Lula?" Mrs. Peyton looked up reluctantly from her embroidery. "Why, I wouldn't urge her, Charlotte, if she doesn't want to go," she said, with a glance at Lucy, who was leaning back in a big chair with a discontented expression. "You mustn't expect people from the South to enjoy your freezing weather as you seem to. Lucy feels the cold very much." Charlotte and Randolph marched away down the street together, the boy as full of spirits as his companion.