They were going to Banbury, she knew, because Grandfather had a "case"

at the Banbury Court-House. Susan thought of this "case" as a big black bag something like the suitcase Grandfather was to carry on the visit.

Sometime she meant to ask why he kept a "case" so far away from home in Banbury; but now that question must wait, for she was very busy deciding just which of her belongings she would take with her on the journey.

Susan didn't trouble her head about dresses; Grandmother would attend to that, she knew. Her difficulty lay in making up her mind which of her toys to take with her, and Grandmother looked with dismay at the pile on Susan's bed, a pile which, as Susan ran blithely up and down stairs, grew larger with every trip.

"Susan, child," said Grandmother, "what are your washboard and tub doing on the bed here, and this box of blocks, and your flat-iron? Are you thinking of taking them to Banbury? You will need a Saratoga trunk, if you keep on."

"I thought Letty would like to see them," faltered Susan, halting with an armful in the doorway.

"So she will, when she comes to visit you," answered Grandmother. "It is your turn now to see her toys. And I should leave Flip and s...o...b..ll home, too, if I were you. You will be gone only four or five days, a week at the most, you know."

"I am afraid they will miss me," said Susan, coming forward to look wistfully at her pile of treasures.

"No, they won't," said Grandmother, shaking her head with decision.

"They will be all the more glad to see you when you come home again. And they will be company for me, too. You don't want to leave me entirely alone, do you?"

"Oh, Grandmother!" cried Susan, her tender heart touched. "I don't want to leave you home alone at all. I won't go. I won't go one step." And she caught Mrs. Whiting's hand and patted it gently against her cheek.

"Nonsense, Susan," answered Mrs. Whiting, smiling down upon her granddaughter. "How do you suppose Grandfather would get along without you to take care of him? And I expect to be too busy to be lonely. I hope to finish my braided rug while you are gone."

So Susan decided that, after all, she would go with Grandfather, and that Grandmother must be left in Flip and s...o...b..ll's special charge.

"Take good care of Grandmother, and be good children yourselves,"

whispered she a day or so later, as she ran into the little sewing-room to bid them good-bye. Flip and s...o...b..ll had been placed on top of the sewing-machine so that they might easily guard Grandmother as she braided her rug. "Kiss me good-bye and look at my new hat." And Susan stole an admiring glance in the mirror at her new squirrel cap.

She felt very proud of her cap, with tippet and m.u.f.f to match, and once on the train she sat up stiff and prim hoping some one would say:

"Who is that good little girl in the squirrel furs?"

But after waiting a whole minute to hear the flattering comment which did not come, Susan turned to look out of the window, and sensibly forgot about herself and her furs as she gazed at the world whirling past.

She was so interested in all she saw that the journey seemed a short one, and she could scarcely believe it was over when Grandfather folded his paper and lifted down the suitcase from the rack over his head.

But there on the platform stood Letty, smiling shyly and holding fast to her father's hand, and, what seemed really wonderful to Susan, Letty wore a little squirrel cap and tippet and m.u.f.f like her own.

"We are twins!" cried Susan in an ecstasy of joy, as arm in arm they walked up the street behind Grandfather and Mr. Spargo.

Her eyes were glancing hither and thither as she surveyed the neat red-brick houses, with white front door and glistening white doorstep, each in its own s.p.a.cious garden plot, that made up street after street in Banbury Town.

"We are real twins," agreed Letty, her blue eyes shining and her yellow curls dancing as she nodded eagerly at Susan. "And we are going to sleep together; Mother said so. And I asked Annie what was for dinner to-night, but all she would tell me was 'Brussels sprouts' and 'Queen of Puddings.' You like Queen of Puddings, don't you?"

Susan admitted that she liked Queen of Puddings. She had never before heard of "Bussels sprouts," but, if asked, she would willingly have said that she liked them too, so happy was she to be in Banbury and visiting Letty Spargo.

"But I haven't told you the nicest yet, Susan," went on Letty, squeezing her visitor's arm as she talked. "There is going to be a Fair in our church two days after to-morrow, and there is going to be a Blackbird Pie. Mother is going to have it, Mother and Miss Lamb. Miss Lamb is my Sunday-School teacher. And they are making the curtains for it now, red curtains with big blackbirds flying all over them. Now aren't you glad you came to see me?"

Susan's head was whirling. What was a blackbird pie, and why should a pie have curtains?

At dinner, Susan discovered that "Bussels sprouts" were like baby cabbages, but it was not until later in the evening that Mrs. Spargo, seeing Susan's bewilderment at Letty's talk of the Blackbird Pie, made clear the mystery to her.

"It is not a real pie, Susan," said she. "It is going to be the largest dishpan we can buy, covered with paper to look like a pie and filled with little articles and toys that cost five or ten cents each. You will pull a string, and out of the pie will come something nice. And the blackbird curtains are to drape the booth. Do you understand?"

Susan smiled up into Mrs. Spargo's face. Already she felt at home with Letty's mother. And she liked Letty's baby, too, a fat, good-natured blue-eyed baby, not quite two years old, who poked his fingers into everything and who never cried no matter how many times he sat down hard on the floor with a thump.

"He is a little bit banty because he is fat. That is why he sits down so hard. But I like babies to be banty," said Letty loyally.

"I do too," agreed Susan. "They are much nicer that way."

The next morning before sun-up, Letty and Susan were awake, both very much surprised to find themselves side by side in bed.

"I knew I was here when I went to sleep," said Susan, rubbing her eyes and staring round, "but when I woke up I thought I was home."

"No, you are here," said Letty, sitting up on top of her pillow as if it were a stool and speaking earnestly. "Now I'll tell you what I thought, Susan. You know the Fair is only one day after to-morrow now. Don't you think we ought to begin to save right away so that we can have lots of pulls at the Blackbird Pie? And there will be ice-cream, too, and other good things, I know. Have you any money?"

Susan was as business-like as Letty.

"Yes, plenty," she answered, slipping out of bed.

And a moment later, she and Letty were gazing into the depths of her little green handbag where shone three bright new ten-cent pieces.

"Good," said Letty. "Just think how much we can buy with that. Now I haven't any money at all. But Father comes home to lunch every day, and we will be there to meet him when he comes up the street. I will ask him for some money then, and when he goes back to the office after luncheon I will ask him for more. He will never remember," said Letty, with a confidence born of experience. "He is a very absent-minded man. My mother herself says so."

Susan was charmed with this idea.

"Shall we keep it all in my pocketbook?" she asked. Already she could see its green sides bulging with riches.

Letty twisted a curl and pondered.

"No," she decided at last, "for you might take it out in the street with you and lose it. I'll show you where we will keep our money."

And on tiptoe for fear of waking the baby, she crept into the nursery next door and back.

"Here! just the thing," said she, displaying a little round white jar decorated with a bunch of scarlet holly berries and p.r.i.c.kly green leaves.

"We can keep our money in this, because it is mine. No one will touch it. And we will put it on the end of the mantelpiece in the nursery, up high where the baby can't reach it. Shall we do that?"

In answer, Susan shook her three ten-cent pieces into the jar, and with head on one side admired the effect.

"But if any one looks in he will see the money, and maybe ask what it is for. Then we can't keep it a secret," she objected.

Letty, with finger on lip, tiptoed into the nursery again, and returned with a doll's brown-and-white checked sunbonnet in her hand.

"It belongs to the baby's doll, Lolly," said she. "I just s.n.a.t.c.hed up the first thing I could find. We will stuff it into the jar on top of the money, and if people see it, they will think we have left it there careless-like."

The sunbonnet was tucked into the jar, and the little girls felt perfectly sure that no one would suspect the presence of money under it.

"It does look put there careless-like, doesn't it?" repeated Letty.

She liked to use those words which she had borrowed from Annie the cook.

Many times had she heard Annie say, "I think I'll toss off a pudding, careless-like, for dinner," or, "I'll give the room a little dusting, careless-like, before your mother comes home," and she admired the turn of expression.