Glad news it was that Rose was safe with Aunt Judith, and Mrs.

Sherwood and Polly accepted Aunt Judith's invitation to come and spend the next day at her cottage.

Aunt Judith had gone a short distance to Mrs. Grafton's house, and she had sent her message from there.

"Hurrah!" cried Harry, as Aunt Judith turned from the telephone. "I'm glad it happened that Rose had to run away, for we've missed her all these weeks that she's been spending at the sh.o.r.e. We'll be over to-morrow to see her, won't we, Leslie?" and he gave one of Leslie's long curls a sly twitch.

"We surely will, unless you pull all my hair out when I'd want to hide my head," Leslie said, laughing.

"Oh, pshaw! The way I pull your curls amounts to just love pats,"

Harry cried.

"You wouldn't say so if I twitched your hair like that," Leslie responded.

"I guess I'll go down and get my hair shingled so you won't be able to get hold of it," he said. "Lend me a quarter, Leslie? I spent all I had to-day on candy and a new bat."

Leslie refused and Harry chased her, the two laughing as they ran.

"I never saw a brother and sister who played together so prettily,"

Aunt Judith said.

"They are great chums," Mrs. Grafton said. "Of course Harry has his boy friends, and Leslie is very fond of Lena Lindsey, but for all that my boy and girl are fast friends, and they love each other dearly."

"I like to see it," Aunt Judith said.

She hurried back to the cottage where Rose at the window was eagerly watching for her.

"Mrs. Sherwood's voice sounded very anxious when she replied to my call at the telephone, and the tone of quick relief when I told her that you were safe here at the cottage with me was very evident.

"Polly had cried until she was about sick, but of course, she will be all right now, and they will both be with us here to-morrow, for the day."

"That will be fine," cried Rose, "and you'll set the larger table to-morrow, and make it look fine, but to-night, Aunt Judith, just to-night let's have the little tea table, just as we used to when I lived here with you, with the pretty pale green dishes, and the dear little sugar and cream set with the pink moss-rose buds on it. May we, Aunt Judith?"

Aunt Judith came and took the pretty face between her two hands, and looked into the eager brown eyes for a moment.

"We'll have our little tea just as we used to, because it will please you, and because I'd like nothing better," she said.

"And let me help at the table, just as I used to," Rose said, and together they worked, Rose bringing the rosebud china, while Aunt Judith brought the pale green plates, and cups and saucers from the little china closet, and placed them upon the dainty, spindle-legged table. There were tiny, fresh rolls, chocolate with cream, a dish of raspberry jam of which Rose was very fond, and even the little round pound cakes that Rose so well remembered. Aunt Judith had sent a small boy to purchase them for her while she was telephoning at Mrs.

Grafton's.

When all was ready, they took their places, Aunt Judith pouring the chocolate, while Rose served the cream from the dainty jug, and dropped the cubes of sugar from the quaint little silver tongs.

"Aunt Judith, I'm so happy with Uncle John, that everything I have at his home seems perfect, but there's one queer thing that I don't understand. No raspberry jam ever seems just like the jam I always had at this cottage."

Aunt Judith was delighted.

"To think that you would always remember the jam, and think it a bit nicer than any other!" she said.

"Perhaps it was because we were choice of it, and served it on Sundays and holidays that made you think it extra nice."

Rose leaned toward her and laid her hand upon her arm. "And perhaps it was because you always kept the jam in that lovely cream colored crock that has the b.u.t.terflies upon it. I do believe things taste nicer for being kept in pretty jars like that."

"I think so, too," Aunt Judith said, "but your Uncle John has beautiful china, so doubtless his housekeeper could find plenty of pretty dishes for serving."

"Oh, she does," Rose replied, "but in the closet, the jam is kept in a stone crock, while yours was always in the b.u.t.terfly jar that I always thought so lovely."

"The dearest thing about this cosy little tea is the fact----" Aunt Judith bent to kiss her cheek, "that I have you for my guest, little Rose."

CHAPTER IX

AT AVONDALE

Harry was ready to go over to the cottage at eight the next morning, but Leslie declared it a ridiculous hour to call.

"Call!" cried Harry. "Who's going to make a prim old call, I'd like to know? S'pose a fellow is going to lug a card case just to go and play with Rose?"

"Of course not," said Leslie, "but even if we are just going over to the cottage to play, we'd not care to get there when she's eating breakfast."

"Well, I guess there's no chance of doing that, Leslie. Look at the clock. It is after eight now, and we're still at table."

"I'll go over with you at nine," Leslie said, and when the clock struck nine, she found him just outside the door, his shrill whistle having told her where to find him.

"Come on!" he cried. "It's nine, and if you won't come with me now I'll go over to see Rose without you."

"Well, I'll have to go back now," Leslie said, and turning, she ran across the hall, and up the stairway, laughing as she went.

"Good-bye!" shouted Harry, and off he sped, thinking it a great joke on Leslie that he should keep his word, and because she was causing the delay, run off to the cottage instead of waiting for her.

Leslie, never dreaming but that he was waiting on the walk just outside the door, wondered that he did not whistle or call to her to hurry.

She had gone back for a book that she intended to give Rose, and in her haste she could not at once find it.

At last she saw a bit of its cover beneath a ma.s.s of lace and ribbon, in the corner of the drawer where she had placed it for safe keeping, and catching it up, flew down the stairway and out upon the porch.

For a moment she paused, wondering where Harry might be, when a merry shout made her look up.

Away up the avenue, just opening the cottage gate, was Harry, and even as she looked, he disappeared behind the tall shrubbery in the garden.

"Well, isn't he great?" Leslie said, as she started to run.

Rose and Harry were just behind a tall shrub that overhung the gateway, and as Leslie pushed the gate open they sprang forward in a fine attempt to startle her, but she only laughed.

"You couldn't make me jump," she said, "because I saw a bit of Rose's pink dress between the branches, and Harry moved his head so that I saw his yellow hair."

"Why didn't you speak, and tell us you knew where we were hiding?"

Harry asked, a nice bit vexed that Leslie had not "jumped."