Billy says he loves music--poor little fellow!" "Well, I hope they'll be happy, in spite of Kate's doleful prophecies.
Certainly they looked happy enough to-day," declared Cyril, patting a yawn as he rose to his feet.

"I fancy Will and Aunt Hannah are lonesome, though, about now," he added.
"Yes," smiled Marie, mistily, as she gathered up her work.

"I know what Aunt Hannah's doing.

She's helping Rosa put the house to rights, and she's stopping to cry over every slipper and handkerchief of Billy's she finds.

And she'll do that until that funny clock of hers strikes twelve, then she'll say 'Oh, my grief and conscience--midnight!' But the next minute she'll remember that it's only half-past eleven, after all, and she'll send Rosa to bed and sit patting Billy's slipper in her lap till it really is midnight by all the other clocks." Cyril laughed appreciatively.
"Well, I know what Will is doing," he declared.
"Will is in Bertram's den dozing before the fireplace with Spunkie curled up in his lap." As it happened, both these surmises were not far from right.