"I too," added Gracie.

"It is just what my papa taught me to do," remarked Evelyn modestly.

"Would you children all like to take a drive with me this afternoon?"

asked the captain.

There was a simultaneous and joyful a.s.sent from his own three: then Evelyn said, "Thank you, sir. I should like it extremely, if I can get permission. Aunt Elsie expects me home to dinner; but I will go now to the telephone, and ask if I may stay and accept your invitation."

"And while you are doing that, I will go to my wife, and try to persuade her to join our party," the captain said, leaving the room.

Evelyn had no difficulty in gaining permission to stay at Ion for the rest of the day, or go anywhere Capt. Raymond might propose to take her; and he found but little difficulty in persuading Violet to accompany him in a drive that would take her from her baby for an hour or two, the little one being so much better that she did not fear to leave it in charge of her mother and the nurse, thinking it might die before her return.

"The carriage will be at the door in ten or fifteen minutes after we leave the dinner-table," the captain told them all; and each one promised to be ready to start at once.

The children all came down the stairs and out upon the veranda together, and only a little in advance of the captain and Violet.

There was a simultaneous exclamation of surprise as they saw, not the Ion family carriage, but a new and very handsome one, with a pair of fine match-horses, which none of them had ever seen before, drawn up at the foot of the veranda-steps, while, a few feet beyond, a servant held the bridle of a beautiful, spirited pony, whose long mane, gracefully arched neck, and glossy coat, struck them all with admiration.

The carriage-horses were no less handsome or spirited: they were tossing their manes, and pawing the ground, with impatience to be off.

Violet turned a bright, inquiring look upon her husband, while all three of his children were asking in eager, excited tones, "Papa, papa, whose carriage and horses are these?"

"Ours," he said, handing Violet to a seat in the vehicle; then, as he helped Evelyn in, "Max, my son, if you will ride that pony, there will be more room here for the rest of us."

"O papa! may I?" cried the boy in tones of delight. "Did you hire it for me?"

"No: I only bought it for you. Mount, and let me see how well you can manage him--how well you have improved your opportunities for learning to ride."

Max needed no second invitation, but had vaulted into the saddle before his father was done speaking.

"Now put him through his paces," was the next order.

Max wheeled about, dashed down the avenue at a rapid gallop, turned, and came back at an easy canter; his father and sisters, Violet also, watching him in proud delight, he was so handsome, and sat his pony so well.

"Ah! that will do," his father said when the lad was within easy hearing-distance: "these fellows," glancing at the horses attached to the carriage, "are getting too restless to stand any longer; so you may finish your exhibition at another time. I have seen enough to feel that you are quite equal to the management of your pony."

"O papa! he's just splendid!" Max burst out, bending down to pat and stroke the neck of his steed; "and I can never thank you enough for such a gift."

"Enjoy him, and use him kindly: that is all I ask," the captain said, entering the carriage, where he had already placed his two little girls.

"Drive on, Scipio. Max, you may ride along-side."

"I 'spect I know where we're going," remarked Grace gleefully, and with an arch smile up into her father's face, as she noticed the direction they were taking on turning out of the avenue into the high-road.

"Do you?" he said. "Well, wait a little, and you will find out how good a guess you have made."

"To Woodburn, papa?" queried Lulu eagerly.

"Have patience, and you will see presently," he answered with a smile.

"Mamma Vi, do you know?" she asked.

"It is your father's secret," said Violet. "I should not presume to tell you when he declines doing so."

"We shall know in a very few minutes, Lu," said Evelyn: "it is only a short drive to Woodburn."

"I was thinking about that name," said Grace. "Papa, why do they call it Woodburn? There's woods,--do they burn them sometimes? They don't look as if they'd ever been burned."

"I don't think they have," he said, "except such parts of them as dry twigs and fallen branches, that could be picked up from the ground, or now and then a tree that it was thought best to cut down, or that fell of itself. But you know, there is a pretty little brook running across the estate, and in Scotland such a stream is called a burn; so, having a wood and a burn, Woodburn is a very appropriate name."

"Yes, papa, I think it is, and a pretty name too. Thank you for explaining it, and not laughing at my mistake."

"Even papa doesn't know nearly every thing, little daughter," he said, stroking and patting the small hand she had laid on his knee, "so it would be quite out of place for him to laugh at you for asking a sensible question. We should never be ashamed to ask for information that we need. It is much wiser than to remain in ignorance for fear of being laughed at."

"And her father always gives information so kindly and patiently,"

remarked Violet.

"And I think he knows '_most_ every thing," said Grace. "Oh, I did guess right! for here we are at Woodburn."

They drove and walked about the grounds, admiring, criticising, planning improvements; then called on Miss Elliott, and, with her readily accorded permission, went over the house.

Violet and the captain selected a suite of rooms for their own occupation, and he decided which the children should use.

A bedroom opening from their own was selected for Grace, the adjoining room beyond for Lulu; and another, into which both these latter opened, they were told should be their own little sitting-room.

Besides these, a tiny apartment in a tower, communicating with Lulu's bedroom, was given to her. The sitting-room opened into the hall also, so that it was not necessary to pa.s.s through one bedroom to reach the other.

They were all bright, cheerful rooms, with a pleasant outlook from every window: in the sitting-room there were French windows opening upon a balcony.

The little girls were almost speechless with delight when told by their father that these four apartments were to be appropriated solely to their use.

Lulu caught his hand, and kissed it, tears of mingled joy and penitence springing to her eyes.

He smiled down at her, and laid his other hand tenderly on her head for an instant.

Then turning to Max, "Now, my boy," he said, "we must settle where you are to lodge. Have you any choice?"

"Is it to be more than one room for me, papa?" he asked, with an arch smile. "I believe boys don't usually fare quite so well as girls in such things."

"My boy does," returned his father: "you shall have two or three rooms if you want them, and quite as well furnished as those of your sisters."

"Then, if you please, papa, I'll take those over Lu's, and thank you very much. But as you have already given me several things that my sisters haven't got,--a gun, a watch, and that splendid pony,--I think it would be quite fair that they should have better and prettier furniture in their rooms than I in mine."

"That makes no difference, Max," his father answered with a pleased laugh. "I should hardly want the girls to have guns, but watches and ponies they shall have by the time they are as old as you are now."

At that the two little girls, standing near, exchanged glances of delight. They had been unselfishly glad for Max, and now they rejoiced each for herself and for the other.

Though, in common with all the rest, deeply interested in the new home, Max was not sorry when his father and Violet decided that it was time to return to Ion; for he was eager to show his pony to grandma Elsie, Zoe, and Rosie, who had not yet seen it.

"Papa, do you require me to keep along-side of the carriage?" he asked, as he remounted.