Aunt Sarah took up her candle with as much dignity as it is possible to assume in curling-pins. “I understand that Cecilia doesn’t like me,” she said stiffly, “and I assure you that the feeling is mutual. I shall not speak to her, of course, if you prefer that I shall hold no communication with her. But I shall write your mother a full account of the whole affair as soon as I leave, which will be this morning, if possible. I must say, Barbara, that I never expected that you would condone wrongdoing, even in your own household. I shall telephone for an expressman to take my trunk to the station at ten this morning. If there was ever a home and a family where New Thought is needed, this is the one!” * * * * * Aunt Sarah was as good as her word. During the entire breakfast hour, she deigned not so much as a glance at her guilty great-niece. Upon her departure, she ostentatiously kissed every other member of the family, including Jack, who presented a cheek gingerly for the salute. Barbara accompanied her to the station, but she was not to be mollified, and the farewell was enlivened only by Edward’s boys, whose parting act was to open a coop of chickens in the Auburn baggage-room, and give the fowls their freedom. Barbara, as well as the station-master, heaved a sigh of relief as her relatives boarded the train. Upon her return to the disorderly home, the big sister sought out the little one. It was hard to find fault with the punishment that had been meted out to Edward’s boys, but it must be done. Barbara took the small girl on her lap. “Why did you do it, Chicken?” she asked. Gassy’s lips set in a decided line. “Because they deserved it,” she said. “I ain’t one bit sorry, Barbara Grafton, not one single bit! Those are the meanest, sneakiest boys that ever lived! They didn’t dare torment Jack,—he was too big; they were afraid of me because I could beat them running. So they took it all out on David and the Kid, ’specially David. He ain’t strong enough to fight, and, besides, he’s too gentle; and they knew it, and took advantage of it all the time. First they used to hit him, and tease him, but he’d never answer back,—just look at them kind of sad and slow, like Mary, Queen of Scots, on the scaffold. And that spoiled all their fun; the scratch-back kind are the only ones who are ever really teased, you know.” Barbara put this bit of philosophy away for future reference.