“Mamma,” said Eddie, “we’ve had a nice long holiday, and it’s really pleasant to get back to lessons again.”

“So it is!” said Vi, “don’t you think so, Elsie?”

“Yes, indeed! nice to get back to our books, but we’ve had lessons almost every day, grandpa and papa and mamma teaching us so much about the birds, insects, and all sorts of living things, and the flowers and plants, trees, stones and oh, I don’t know how many things that are different here from what we have at home.”

“At home! why this is home; isn’t it, mamma?” exclaimed Eddie.

“Yes, my son, one of our homes.”

“Yes, and so beautiful,” said Vi; “but Ion ’pears the homest to me.”

“Does it, darling?” asked mamma, giving her a smile and a kiss.

“Yes, mamma; and I love Ion dearly:  Viamede ’most as well, though, because you were born here, and your dear mamma.”

“And because that dear grandma is buried here;” remarked her sister, “and because of all those dear graves.  Mamma, I do like those lessons I was speaking of, and so do Eddie and Vi; but Herbert and Meta and Harry don’t; they say they think them very stupid and dull.”

“I am glad, my children, that you love knowledge,” their mother said, “because it is useful; the more knowledge we have the more good we can do if we will.”

“And then it is a lasting pleasure.  God’s works are so wonderful that we can never learn all about them while we live in this world, and I suppose throughout the endless ages of eternity, we shall be ever learning, yet always finding still more to learn.”

“Mamma, how pleasant that will be,” said Elsie thoughtfully.

“And oh, mamma!” cried Vi, “that reminds me that we’ve been out of doors ’most all the day-times, and haven’t seen grandma’s play-room and things yet.  Won’t you show them to us?”

“Yes, we will go now.”

“Me too, mamma?” asked Harold.

“Yes, all of you come.  I want you all to see everything that I have that once belonged to my dear mother.”

“Aunt Rosie wants to see them too,” said Vi.

“And Herbert and Meta and the others,” added Elsie.

“They shall see them afterwards.  I want no one but my own little children now,” replied mamma, taking Harold’s hand, and leading the way.

She led them to the room, a large and very pleasant one, light and airy, where flowers were blooming and birds singing, vines trailing over and about the windows, lovely pictures on the walls, cosy chairs and couches, work-tables, well supplied with all the implements for sewing, others suited for drawing, writing or cutting out upon, standing here and there, quantities of books, games and toys; nothing seemed to have been forgotten that could give pleasant employment for their leisure hours, or minister to their amusement.

There was a burst of united exclamations of wondering delight from the children, as the door was thrown open and they entered.  Now they understood why mamma had put them off when several times they had asked to be brought to this room:  she was having it fitted up in a way to give them a joyful surprise.