"Exactly the opinion I had reached," declared grandmother, dropping the letter. "We must untie the ap.r.o.n-strings."

Grandfather looked puzzled for a moment over this expression, then he laughed heartily.

"That's a very good way of putting it, my dear," he said, "only we must not untie them all at once. Too much freedom at one time is as bad as an overdose of anything else. Besides, if we begin all at once to give Kit full swing, it will set him to thinking of his old restrictions and in his new liberty he will grow very sorry for himself and consider that he had been greatly abused.

"We must not let him think he's been molly-coddled. We must be diplomatic. I shall tell him, in a day or two, that as long as he has got on so well with his swimming, he might as well go ahead with it.

We'll send him off with Perk, too, now and then, to show Perk that we still trust him; although I shall go along the first time or two to see how things are. I do trust Perk, my dear. He is a good lad, although like all boys, he's fond of a lark."

Grandmother sighed, but it was not at the thought of Jo Perkins enjoying a good time.

"Our baby Kit has gone," she said dolefully, "and a big boy has come in his stead. I do hope Janey won't miss him too much. She has seemed a little offended at times, when Kit goes off with Billy Carpenter, but just now her heart is so full of Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, Letty, and her dolly's new bed, that she is happy even without Kit, bless her."

"How different boys and girls are, from the very beginning," said grandfather soberly, as if he had just made a great discovery. "The girls love their dollies and the boys their swimming holes."

"Do you realize that you are quoting Tennyson, after a fashion?" smiled grandmother, and she recited:

"'Man for the field and woman for the hearth; Man for the sword and for the needle she.'

"Something else has taken place while you were away. Mrs. Hartwell-Jones has taken a great fancy to Letty."

Grandfather and grandmother exchanged very knowing glances at this. They had often wondered, since the little circus girl had gone to live with Mrs. Hartwell-Jones, if something more would not come of the arrangement.

"It would be a great thing for Letty," said grandmother at last. "Mrs.

Hartwell-Jones believes that the child has a good singing voice."

"Well, I am sure I should be thankful to see the little girl happy,"

said grandfather. "Letty is a good child and will repay any kindness Mrs. Hartwell-Jones does for her, I am sure. Have you finished with Kit's letter, my dear?"

Grandmother caught up the letter from her lap and turned to the beginning.

"Do they say anything about the date they are to sail?" She asked the question with mingled feelings. She would be very glad to see her son and daughter-in-law again, of course, but their return to America meant the departure of the twins from Sunnycrest and it really seemed too soon to end their happy visit. The summer had been very short.

Two or three days later, grandfather opened the new program of events which he had planned.

"Kit, my boy," he said at dinner, "as long as you have started in with this swimming business, I suppose you might as well keep it up. It is a pity to let that one lesson go to waste."

Christopher's face beamed with astonishment and delight.

"You don't mean to say that you're going to let me go swimming?" he cried. "Oh, cricky, that's bully!"

"Why, yes, it seems to me that I knew how to swim when I was your age,"

went on grandfather. "Suppose we let Janey go into the village with grandmother this afternoon while you and Perk and I go off on a little lark of our own. What do you say to the plan, Kit?"

"I think it would be-perfectly splendid, sir!" shouted Christopher in great excitement.

"All right, then. I'll have Perk harness the spring wagon. Grandmother, will you ask Huldah to put us up a bite of something? A pretty liberal bite, my dear. Learning to swim is hungry work. And I thought we might pick up Bill Carpenter on the way," he added to Christopher, "if we see him about anywhere."

"Are you going to swim, too, grandfather?" asked Jane, folding her napkin neatly. "I should think it would be horrid in the cold, weedy water. Please don't let Kit drown again."

"Huh!" sniffed Christopher in his most superior manner, "I just guess there's not any danger of me drownin'. I can swim. You just ask Perk if I can't."

"Well, that's nothing to be so smart about. I could swim, too, if I chose to learn. Girls are just as clever as boys, every bit, only they don't like such silly things."

"The things a girl likes are heaps sillier," retorted Christopher.

"Fairies and dolls! Ho! There aren't any such things as fairies, and who'd play with a doll? An old painted thing stuffed with sawdust!"

Jane's face grew red and her eyes filled with tears.

"You have always been glad enough to play with dolls and to talk about fairies when you hadn't got any horrid boys around," she said slowly.

Then her injured feelings overcame her and she ran to her grandmother and buried her face on her shoulder.

"Oh, grandmother," she sobbed, "Kit doesn't love me any more. He talks to me like other boys talk to girls. I always thought Kit and I would be just alike forever and ever, but we ain't-aren't, I mean-and it's all Billy Carpenter's fault!"

Grandmother whispered comforting words in the little girl's ear, and stroked her hair until Jane's storm of tears was over. Christopher stood by in awkward silence. He felt sorry and a little taken aback, for he had not really meant to hurt his sister's feelings.

"I didn't mean to be a beast, Jane," he said. "I'm sorry I said that about your dolls. Stop crying, do, there's a good fellow. I'm sorry, honest Injun. I'll-I'll stay home!" he gulped heroically, "and play I'm Oberon or Puck all the afternoon; or I'll doctor Sally through the scarlet fever. Stop crying, I say."

Jane lifted a tear-stained face.

"I don't want you to stay home," she said cruelly. "I am glad you've got something to do, 'cause I was only staying home to keep you company.

I've got another engagement for this afternoon," and lifting her little square chin loftily, she walked out of the room.

So occurred the first real break between the twins. Jane's tender little heart reproached her the minute she had closed the door.

"I was rude to him when he was trying to make up," she thought miserably. "I wish I hadn't. And he's going to be gone all the whole afternoon! I hope it won't spoil his picnic with grandfather."

Just as grandmother and Jane were about to start, Letty appeared in the pony carriage to take them. Grandmother decided, therefore, to let Jane go back with Letty and she could follow later. But she remembered some jelly that she wished to send to Mrs. Hartwell-Jones and asked the children to wait while she had it packed. Jane was glad of the delay, for she wanted a chance to make up with Christopher if possible, and he had gone down to the stable to help Perk harness the horse. They drove up presently, Christopher looking so supremely happy that Jane was obliged to acknowledge that her unforgiving words had not altogether spoiled his afternoon.

"Good-bye, Kit, I hope you'll have a good time," she said a little wistfully.

"Thanks, Janey; wish you were going along," replied Christopher graciously. "But girls can't do everything that boys can, you know. Some day we'll have a picnic for the ladies, won't we, grandfather?" he added politely.

Grandfather kissed Jane and lifted her into the pony carriage beside Letty.

"Have a nice time at the author-lady's, little Jane, and if you miss Kit very much, just let me know and I'll make him go along next time to rock your baby to sleep. He's not a man quite yet, you know."

"He thinks he's awful smart, though," she replied to her grandfather, and stuck out her tongue resentfully at Christopher over Mr. Baker's shoulder.

"Just the same, you're not allowed to go alone," she taunted.

Christopher refused to have his spirits damped.

"Grandfather is only going so that I can show him how well I know how to swim. And he's not so bad as having girls tagging along," he answered coolly.

And grandfather felt that the ap.r.o.n-strings were indeed untied!