“And we echo yours, mother,” said Edward.  “Do we not?” appealing to the others.

“Oh yes, yes!” they cried, “a summer at the seashore, by all means.”

“In a cottage home of our own; shall it not be, papa?” added Elsie.

“Your mamma decides all such questions,” was his smiling rejoinder.

“I approve the suggestion.  It is far preferable to hotel life,” she said.  “Molly, my child, you are the only one who has not spoken.”

Molly’s bright face had clouded a little.  “I want you all to go and enjoy yourselves,” she said, “though I shall miss you sadly.”

“Miss us! do you then intend to decline going along?”

Molly colored and hesitated; “I’m such a troublesome piece of furniture to move,” she said half jestingly, bravely trying to cover up the real pain that came with the thought.

“That is nothing,” said Mr. Travilla, so gently and tenderly that happy, grateful tears sprang to her eyes; “you go, of course, with the rest of us; unless there is some more insuperable objection—­such as a disinclination on your part, and even that should, perhaps, be overruled; for the change would do you good.”

“O Molly you will not think of staying behind?”

“We should miss you sadly,” said Elsie and Vi.

“And if you go you’ll see Dick,” suggested Eddie.

Molly’s heart bounded at the thought.  “Oh,” she said, her eyes sparkling, “how delightful that would be! and since you are all so kind, I’ll be glad, very glad to go.”

“Here comes grandpa’s carriage.  I’m so glad!” exclaimed Herbert, the first to spy it as it turned in at the avenue gate.  “Now I hope they’ll say they’ll all go too.”

He had his wish; the carriage contained Mr. and Mrs. Dinsmore, their son and daughter, and it soon appeared that they had come to propose the very thing Herbert desired, viz., that adjacent cottages at the seashore should be engaged for the two families, and all spend the summer there together.

It was finally arranged that the Dinsmores should precede the others by two or three weeks, then Mr. Dinsmore return for his daughter and her family, and Mr. Travilla follow a little later in the season.

Also that the second party should make their journey by water; it would be easier for Molly, and newer to all than the land route which they had taken much oftener in going North.

“Dear me, how I wish we were rich!” exclaimed Virginia Conly when she heard of it the next morning at breakfast, from Cal, who had spent the evening at Ion.  “I’d like nothing better than to go North for the summer; not to a dull, prosy life in a cottage though, but to some of the grand hotels where people dress splendidly and have hops and all sorts of gay times.  If I had the means I’d go to the seashore for a few weeks, and then off to Saratoga for the rest of the season, Mamma, couldn’t we manage it somehow?  You ought to give Isa and me every advantage possible, if you want us to make good matches.”