“But don’t think we don’t realize how much we are indebted to you,” said Mr. Maynard, earnestly, for the two good friends in need had been friends indeed to the distracted parents.

“Well, you can have a set of resolutions engrossed and framed for us,” said Cousin Jack, “or, better yet, you can give me a dollar bill, in full of all accounts.  By the way, Mehitabel, it’s lucky you came home from your little jaunt in time for your birthday.  I incidentally learned that it will be here soon, and we’re going to have a celebration that will take the roof right off this house!”

“All right, Cousin Jack; I’m ready for anything, now that I know I’ve got a father and mother.”

“And a brother,” supplemented King, “and such a brother!” He rolled his eyes as if in ecstasy at the thought of his own perfections, and Marjorie lovingly pinched his arm.

“And a couple of sisters,” added Cousin Ethel; “I like to speak up for the absent.”

“Yes, and two dearest, darlingest cousins,” said Marjorie, gleefully.  “Oh, I think I’ve got the loveliest bunch of people in the whole world!”

CHAPTER XII

A LETTER OF THANKS

“Mother,” said Marjorie, the next day, “what is a bread-and-butter letter?”

“Why, dearie, that’s a sort of a humorous term for a polite note of acknowledgment, such as one writes to a hostess after making a visit.”

“Yes, that’s what I thought.  So I’m going to write one to Mrs. Geary.”

“You may, if you like, my child; but, you know your father gave those old people money for their care of you.”

“Yes, I know; but that’s different.  And I think they’d appreciate a letter.”

“Very well, write one, if you like.  Shall I help you?”

“No, thank you.  King and I are going to do it together.”

“What did you call it, Mops?” asked her brother, as she returned to the library, where he sat, awaiting her.

“A bread-and-butter letter; Mother says it’s all right.”

“Well, but you had other things to eat besides bread and butter.”

“Yes, but that’s just the name of it.  Now, how would you begin it, King?”

“‘Dear Mrs. Geary,’ of course.”

“Well, but I want it to be to him, too.  He was real nice,—­in his queer way.  And if he hadn’t looked after me, where would I have been?”

“That’s so.  Well, say, ‘Dear Mr. and Mrs. Geary, both.’”

So Marjorie began: 

     “’Dear Mr. and Mrs. Geary Both: 
       “‘This is a bread-and-butter letter——­’”

“I tell you, Mops, they won’t like it.  They’re not up in social doings, and they won’t understand that bread and butter means all the things.  I think you ought to put ’em all in.”

“Well, I will then.  How’s this?

     “’—­and a turnip letter, and a boiled-beef letter, and a
     baked-apple letter, and a soft-boiled egg letter.’”