stay so long," exclaimed grandmamma, patting Bee.
"I'll bet she doesn't stay a year," cried Ted.
"I'll expect her home by Christmas," said papa.
"I'll bet she is here to eat Thanksgiving dinner," cried my brother-in-law.
"No, she is sure to stay as long as she has said she would," said mamma.
Mothers are the brace of the universe. The family trailed down to the front door. Everybody was carrying something. There were two carriages, for they were all going to the station with us.
"For all the world like a funeral, with loads of flowers and everybody crying," said my brother, cheerfully.
I never shall forget that drive to the station; nor the last few moments, when Bee and I stood on the car-steps and talked to those who were on the platform of the station. Can anybody else remember how she felt at going to Europe for the first time and leaving everybody she loved at home? Bee grieved because there were no flowers at the train after all. But the next morning they appeared, a tremendous box,