“It is a lovely morning, one of October’s fairest days!” exclaimed Lucilla, glancing from the window of her dressing-room on the day after their home-coming from their recent sojourn upon the banks of the Hudson. “Oh, Chester, my dear, I wish you could just stay at home and spend the day with me!”

“It would be very pleasant to do so, my love,” he returned, “but business forbids; and besides,” he added laughingly, “I feel very sure you would not be content to really stay at home all day.”

“No,” she returned in mirthful tone, “but Woodburn seems to me only a part of my home—holding my dear father and the other loved ones—and I cannot be content to refrain from spending a part of every day with them, or from having them spend a part here with me.”

“Yes, dearest, I fully understand, and rejoice that you have their loved companionship when I must be away from home, so that you might be lonely indeed without them,” returned Chester. He came close to her side and put an arm about her as he spoke.

“My dear husband,” she murmured low and softly, “your companionship has become more and sweeter to me than any or all other, even that of my dear father.”

“Oh, thank you for those sweet words, dearest,” he returned with emotion. “Ah, I esteem myself a very fortunate man in having such a wife. But it grows late and I must hasten with my preparations, for breakfast first and business after.”

“Do, my dear. I am just ready to go down, and I think the call to breakfast will soon follow my entrance into the dining-room.”

She met Max in the hall, and they exchanged a pleasant morning greeting.

“How are wife and baby?” she asked.

“They seem to be well, bright and happy.”

“And you are looking so.”

“Look as I feel, then, when I can refrain from thinking of Uncle Sam’s coming orders,” he returned with a rather rueful smile.

“Oh, dear! I’d break loose from that old uncle if I were you. Won’t you and Eva come in and breakfast with us?”

“No, thank you; we were with you last night, you know, so it’s your turn to come to us. Take your breakfast with us this morning, you and Chester, won’t you?”

“Thank you, but Chester is so hurried in the mornings. I think he would prefer to join you at tea some of these evenings.”

“Ah, yes, that will be better. And there! both breakfast bells are ringing.”

Those sounds brought both Evelyn and Chester into the hall. Morning greetings were exchanged with them and the four descended to their breakfast rooms.

Chester did not linger over his breakfast, but Max and Eva ate leisurely, as there was no necessity for haste with either of them at that time.

Lucilla saw her husband on his way, returned to the table, finished her breakfast, had a pleasant little stroll about the grounds with her father, then returned to the house and found them, baby and all, on the veranda, for it was a bright, warm morning. Eva sat with the babe in her arms, Max standing by her side, gazing in the direction of Woodburn.

“Why didn’t father come in?” he asked, his tone expressing disappointment and chagrin.

“He said it was a little too late. Mamma Vi would be ready for her breakfast, and he could not think of keeping her waiting. But he thinks they will be here in an hour or so and convoy us all over there.”

“All right, as father’s plans always are,” returned Max with a sigh of satisfaction.

“Just as I think,” said Evelyn; “but I doubt if we can make a lengthened stay, as I overheard occasional remarks yesterday at Ion indicating that we would be likely to receive a number of calls from relatives and friends to-day.”

“But,” laughed Lucilla, “they will be calling upon the Woodburn folks, too, and it will be to them a saving of time and trouble to find us all in one house.”

“So it will,” responded Max in laughing tone, “and I hope they will appreciate our kindness in so evidently consulting their convenience in regard to the matter.”

“Ah, how sweet our little darling looks this morning!” exclaimed Lucilla, stepping to Evelyn’s side and bending over the little one. “Precious pet, Aunt Lu loves to look at you.”

“Tell Aunt Lu you will look much sweeter when you have had your bath and are dressed for the day,” said Evelyn, and the child seemed to answer:

“Let me have it soon, mamma, before my dear grandpa sees me.”

“Yes, so you shall,” Eva replied, with a laughing look at her husband. “Baby dear, you should appreciate the blessing of having a father who can talk for you until you can do it for yourself. Now,” she added, rising with the child in her arms, “we will go and make the contemplated improvements.”

“And I to attend to household affairs,” added Lucilla, and they passed into the entrance hall together.

The families at Woodburn and Ion sat down to their breakfast at very nearly the same time. At both places all were well and in good spirits, and as a consequence the chat was lively and pleasant.

“What a lovely morning,” remarked Mrs. Dinsmore. “This is one of our delicious October days.”

“Yes, and quite a good deal of it would be properly spent in walking and driving,” said her husband. “Shall I take you and Elsie over to Woodburn and Sunnyside?”

“You may take me in either way that suits you best,” she returned with a pleased smile.

“And you, Elsie?” he asked.

“Thank you, father,” she said, her tone and look indicating a grateful appreciation of his kindness in giving the invitation. “I last evening accepted an invitation from Walter; but we might make up a family party and all go. ‘The more the merrier,’ as I am sure the Woodburn folk will think.”

“Oh, do, do! Let us all go!” cried little Lily. “I want to see the monkeys again.”

At that everybody laughed, and Grandpa Dinsmore said:

“Very well, you can visit the monkeys, and the rest of us our relatives.”

Lily hung her head and blushed.

“I didn’t mean I cared more about the monkeys than about aunt and uncle and the cousins, for I don’t.”

“No, dear, we all understand that,” said Grandma Elsie soothingly; “the monkeys are not the principal attraction, but merely an additional one.”

“Yes, ma’am,” returned the child with a relieved sigh. “I don’t want anybody to think I don’t love Aunt Vi and uncle and the rest, because I do; but the monkeys are the funniest.”

“Of course, they are,” said her Uncle Herbert; “and who doesn’t like fun?”

“I know of no one in this house who objects to it in the right time and place,” remarked her father, bestowing a reassuring smile upon the little girl.

“We seem likely to have a gay time while our young naval officer remains in the neighborhood,” remarked Mr. Dinsmore.

“Yes, sir,” said Edward; “so I understand, and I hope they—the various parties planned—may prove enjoyable.”

“I have no doubt that they will, my dear,” said Zoe.

“I hope they will be in the daytime, so that we children can go,” said Lily.

“But even if they do, the monkeys will surely not be present at all of them,” remarked Walter gravely.

“But I’m not a monkey, Uncle Walter,” she returned in a slightly resentful tone. “You wouldn’t have me for your niece if I was.”

“No; and you haven’t the least look like one. So if you can do without their companionship, I hope you will be permitted to go to all the parties talked of.”

“If she is a good girl she shall go to all the parties she’s invited to; all the daytime ones in the connection, I mean,” said her mother.

“Oh, thank you, mamma!” exclaimed the little girl; “and I may go to-day with you and papa, may I?”

“You shall go somehow and with somebody; we will get it all arranged presently. There are conveyances enough for all to ride if they wish, and it is a delightful day for walking so short a distance if any one prefers to do that.”

Some did prefer it, and in a few moments their plans in regard to that were all arranged.

In the meantime Lucilla had made her housekeeping arrangements and toilet for the day, the next-door neighbors had done likewise, the baby, beautifully attired, was sleeping in her carriage, which Max was proud to draw with his own hands, and they set out on their trip across the lawn to Woodburn.

They received a joyous welcome there, and were told they were just in time to prevent the call from being made in the other direction.

“We were just about to start for Sunnyside,” said Violet, “for we were all hungry for a sight of my little granddaughter.”

“Oh, mamma, she isn’t that, and you don’t look a bit like a grandmother!” exclaimed Elsie.

“I’m her own grandfather’s wife,” laughed Violet, “and what’s my husband’s is mine also. Isn’t it, my dear?” turning to him with a pleased little laugh.

“Yes,” he replied, “I consider you as having a right to a share in all my possessions.”

“That’s nice and kind in you, papa,” said Elsie, “but I don’t like my pretty young mamma to be thought old; and folks will think so if she’s called grandma.”

“Well, daughter, I should think a sight of her face would convince anybody of the absurdity of that,” the captain said, drawing Elsie to his side and smoothing her hair caressingly. Then bending over the babe, which was waking, he said caressingly: “Grandpa’s pretty pet! the first grandchild, sweet and beautiful as a lily or a rose.”

At that she looked up into his face and cooed.

“That’s a pretty reply to grandpa, baby darling,” he said, softly touching her cheek with his lips.

Then she seemed to speak:

“I love you, my dear grandpa.”

“Oh, that’s nice for her to say,” cried Elsie, clapping her hands and laughing merrily; “and I do believe she does, papa, for see how sweetly she looks at you. Oh, I think she’s just the dearest, prettiest baby that ever was made.”

“That’s rather strong, isn’t it?” laughed Max; “but you are young and have seen comparatively few of her age.”

“I really think a brighter or prettier one would be hard to find,” said her grandfather.

“And it wouldn’t be worth her father’s while to pretend to disagree with me,” he added, glancing at Max with a twinkle of fun in his eye.

“We are not disposed to contradict you, father,” Evelyn said with a smile, “but perhaps it is partly because she is our very own that she looks so pretty to us.”

“Oh, there are some folks coming up the driveway!” exclaimed Ned. “Why, they are grandma and Uncle Herbert and—Uncle Walter, I do believe!”

“And I think you are right,” said his father, then hurried forth to meet and welcome the approaching guests. Violet followed closely in his footsteps, the others a little more slowly.

Warm greetings were exchanged, then came a gathering about the carriage, and Evelyn and Max were gratified by hearing Walter say he really thought it the prettiest young baby he had ever seen.

“And so far she’s as good as she is pretty,” said Lucilla; “a bit bairnie to be proud of.”

“There’s nobody here who will contradict you in that,” said Violet, gazing admiringly upon the sweet baby face.

“She seems a fortunate little one—has come to the right place, I think,” remarked Herbert.

“Yes, the right place to be loved and petted,” said Violet. “I suppose partly because we have had no baby among us for some years.”

“I’m glad we have one now, and that she’s my little niece, the dearest, prettiest baby in the land!” cried Elsie, bending over the child and regarding it with loving admiration.

“Where’s Harold?” asked Violet. “I wonder he didn’t come with his mother and brothers.”

“Gone to visit some patients who have been longing for his return,” replied Herbert; adding laughingly: “They actually appear to think him a better physician than either Cousin Arthur or myself. I presume he will be in after a little, though. And yonder, I see, come grandpa and grandma, with Ed and his family.”

“Ah, that is well,” said the captain; “the more the merrier.”

The new arrivals met a hearty welcome, spent a delightful half hour, then returned to Ion; but had scarcely left Woodburn when a servant came to tell the Sunnyside folk that callers were there awaiting the return of its owners.

“Who are they?” asked Max.

“The folks from the Oaks and Beechwood,” was the reply.

“Oh, just our own connections,” said Lucilla; “so, father, you, Grandma Elsie, Mamma Vi and the rest, you will accompany us, won’t you? I think it would be pleasant for us all.”

Evelyn and Max added their urgent invitation, and all accepted except Herbert, who excused himself on the plea that there were patients whom he ought to call upon promptly.

Max and his wife and sister found their callers seated upon the veranda at Sunnyside, enjoying a view of the beautiful grounds, and chatting cosily together while awaiting their coming.

Cordial greetings were exchanged, the baby was noticed and admired, and some one asked if she could still talk as well as she did yesterday.

“Can’t you, my pet?” asked her father, leaning over her, and an answer seemed to come from her lips:

“I’ll try, papa, if you will help me.”

“I really think she can talk now quite as well as she did yesterday,” Max said with becoming gravity.

“And I presume she will be able to whenever her father is with her,” laughed Violet.

“And when he is gone, perhaps she may succeed when Cousin Ronald is by,” said the captain. “I shall certainly not be surprised if she does.”

“It probably will not be so very long before she can use her own tongue,” said Mr. Lilburn.

“And we will hope she will use it aright as she grows up to girlhood, and then to womanhood,” remarked her grandfather, gazing affectionately upon the little one now nestling in her mother’s arms.

“Your first grandchild, is it not, sir?” asked Mr. Lilburn, addressing the captain.

“Yes,” he replied, “and her coming has given me some serious thoughts about my increasing years. I believe I am growing an old man.”

“Not so very,” laughed Cousin Ronald, shaking his head. “I have been a grandsire for years, and when I began the business I was older than you are now.”

“And to me he doesn’t seem so very old even yet,” Annis said with an affectionate smile.

“That sounds pleasant, coming from the lips of my bonny young wife,” Mr. Lilburn said, returning her smile.

There was a momentary silence, then the old gentleman went on in a meditative tone:

“Life in this world has many blessings and many trials, but the Bible tells us, ‘As thy days, so shall thy strength be,’ and in my experience that promise has been fulfilled many, many times. Friends, the day after to-morrow is the Sabbath. Suppose we meet together, as we were wont to do in the past, and have ‘strength’ as the subject for the Bible lesson. I invite you all to come to Beechwood for that purpose.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Captain Raymond, speaking for all, “but allow me to offer Woodburn as the place for meeting, it being more central and—so near this—better suited to the entertainment of my little granddaughter, whose parents would hardly like to go leaving her behind.”

Cousin Ronald laughed at that.

“No; and that would be a bad lesson to begin her education with—the keepin’ her oot o’ the Bible class. I’m not particular where our class shall meet, and Woodburn will suit me as well as any ither place.”

Just then there were arrivals from Fairview and the Laurels, which caused the subject to be dropped for the time. But it was taken up again after a little, and Woodburn finally settled upon as the place for the next Sunday’s Bible class.