“Isn’t it perfectly beautiful that I’m going?” the child went on. “There’d be room for you,” she observed wistfully. “Won’t you go if she asks you?” “No danger of an invitation,” with a short little laugh. Seeing the reflection of her own shadowy thoughts on the small face opposite, she added quickly:-- “I couldn’t go, anyway; I have too much work on hand to go gallivanting off across the country.” “Too bad you can’t,” was the plaintive regret. “When Sardis gets his car you’ll have to go.” Aunt Sophie nodded smilingly. “Oh, yes, I’ll go when Sardis has his car.” “He says he’s going to have one some day,” returned the child, wagging her small head emphatically. “I don’t doubt he will,” said Aunt Sophie. “He’s got a good many things I never would have believed he’d have. He’s the greatest boy for carrying out whatever he starts on. If he should happen to want to be President, I declare, I d’n’ know but he’d get there.” The little flower face shone, as it always did when “Brother Sardis” was being praised. For the moment Mrs. Hamilton Garde was utterly forgotten. Two o’clock came, from the old-fashioned clock on the kitchen shelf sounded two heavy strokes, the little girl at the window feverishly watched the path that led down to the garage; but nobody appeared. “I guess she’s taking a nap,” were the unspoken words that tried to chase away a wee doubt which for a good many minutes had been pressing its way into the hopeful little heart. “Of course, she’d take a nap before going out again!” Whether there was a nap or not, neither of the chauffeurs came into sight. Half past two--three--half-past three--four--all ticked themselves away on the old clock. It was very quiet in the front room of the little gray house. The light haze that brooded over the hills seemed also to have veiled the blue eyes at the window. Still, they kept loyal watch. By and by the child suddenly straightened--the tall young chauffeur was striding down to the garage! It seemed as if the blue eyes must pierce the side of the low building, so eager were they to see inside. Presently the big automobile came out and whizzed past the window. “Aunt Sophie! Aunt Sophie!” cried the little one joyously, “do come and put on my things! She’ll be here in a minute! The man’s gone round!” The little plump woman ran in breezily. “What is it, dear?” “Please bring my things. I don’t want to make her wait. There! they’re coming!” “No, no, child! That’s only the undertaker.” “Well, she will be here right off. Do hurry, auntie! The man just went round to get her!” The child leaned forward, to catch the first glimpse of the returning car. Aunt Sophie stood--unmoved as to feet. “Better wait,” she said, “till she comes.” The little one turned to look up into her aunt’s face, and her eagerness nearly faltered. “Why, you don’t want to make her you?” she asked wonderingly. “Well, I guess her time isn’t over valuable,” she said slowly. “Anyway, I wouldn’t put on my things yet.”