"Well, here we are, Aunt Gertrude and me, too. Grandpa did not like her at first. She looked so much like summer folks, and acted that way, too. He does not agree with summer folks, but she got him talking about foreign parts and that Spanish girl that made eyes at him, and nearly got him away from Grandma, and the time they were wrecked going around the horn, and showing her dishes and carvings from China. Now he likes her first rate. She laughs all the time. Grandma likes her too, but not when Grandpa tells her about that girl in Spain. "We eat in the dining-room, and have lovely food, only Grandpa does not like it, but we have him a pie now for breakfast,--his own pie that he can eat from all the time and he feels better. Aunt Gertrude is happy seeing him eat it for breakfast and claps her hands when he does it, only he doesn't see her. "She is teaching me more manners, and to swim, and some French. It is vacation and I don't have regular lessons, the way I did while we were on Long Island. "Didn't we have a good time in that hotel? Do you remember the night I stayed up till ten o'clock and we sat on the beach and talked? I do. I love you very much. I think it is nice to love anybody. Only I miss you. I would miss you more if I believed what Albertina said about my not being your favorite. I am. "I wish you could come down here. Uncle Jimmie is coming and then I don't know what Albertina will say. "About teaching me. Aunt Gertrude's idea of getting me cultivated is to read to me from the great Masters of literature and funny books too, like Mark Twain and the Nonsense Thology. Then I say what I think of them, and she just lets me develop along those lines, which is pretty good for summer. "Here is a poem I wrote. I love you best. "The sun and wind are on the sea, The waves are clear and blue, This is the place I like to be, If I could just have you. "The insects chirrup in the grass, The birds sing in the tree, And oh! how quick the time would pass If you were here with me." "What do you think of slapping, Aunt Gertrude?" Eleanor asked one evening when they were walking along the hard beach that the receding tide had left cool and firm for their pathway, and the early moon had illumined for them. "Do you think it's awfully bad to slap any one?" "I wouldn't slap you, if that's what you mean, Eleanor." "Would you slap somebody your own size and a little bigger?" "I might under extreme provocation." "I thought perhaps you would," Eleanor sighed with a gasp of relieved satisfaction.