“I don’t see any reason why not,” replied Mrs. Bellamy.

“But I won’t be here then,” protested Kit.

“Oh, you’ll stay till the end of the spring term, dear,” Miss Daphne corrected, and right there and then Kit experienced her first pang of homesickness.  Would she really be away from the home nest until next June?  Even with this novelty of recreation, backed by wealth, she felt suddenly as though she could have slipped away from it all without a single regret, just to find herself safely back home with the family.

When her next letter arrived at Maple Lawn, Jean read it over her mother’s shoulder.  The two younger girls were at school, and a little puzzled frown drew Jean’s straight dark brows together.

“She’s getting homesick, mother.  Kit never writes tenderly like that unless she feels a heart throb.  I never thought she’d last as long as she has——­”

But Mrs. Bobbins looked dubious.

“She seems to have made such a good impression.  I hate to have her spoil it by jumping back too soon.  It’s such a benefit for her.”

Jean stopped polishing lamp chimneys and gazed out of the kitchen window towards the far-reaching fields, where none but the crows could find a living now.  She was only able to run up from New York once a month, since she had taken a position of junior instructor at the Academy, and yet each time she found herself turning with a sigh of relief and safety from the city life to the peace of these everlasting hills.

“I don’t blame her a bit if she wants to come back home before summer, mother dear.  Money isn’t everything.”

“Oh, but Jean,” sighed the Mother Bird, “it means so much in life.  It’s foolish to blind ourselves to all that it will do for us.  I never try to deceive myself one bit, and I shall always miss the little luxuries and greater comforts of life that we had back at the Cove, before your father’s health broke down, especially now that you girls are growing up so soon into womanhood.  It isn’t for myself I want it, but for you.”

Jean laughed as she slipped her arms closer around her mother’s neck.

“But you mustn’t apprentice Kit to the Sign of the Dollar, just for the forlorn hope that Uncle Cassius and Aunt Daphne may send her home with a shower of gold.  It seems to me if they were really and truly the right kind of family people, and cared for you and father, that they couldn’t rest until they had handed over a splendid, generous slice of their money right now when it would do the most good.”

“Oh, Jean, people never do that.  But I do think they will leave something to you all.”

“Leave something!” sniffed Jean, scornfully.  “If there’s anything in the world I thoroughly despise, it’s old, mouldy, dead men’s shoes.  If I were you, I’d write and tell Kit that she could come home at the Christmas vacation if she wanted to.”

But Cousin Roxy took an entirely different view of the matter when she was consulted.