Once more the lilacs were in blossom in the garden of the Big Brick House. The blackbirds called and chuckled in the lofty branches of the elms, and robins hopped about the lawns, seemingly with the express purpose of tantalizing Kitty Grey. On the lawn, where the hammocks hung, a happy group was gathered. Mr. and Mrs. Merrithew were there, Marjorie and Dora, Katherine and Jack, and two others who evidently formed the centre of attraction. Of these, one was a tall, thin man, with a frame that must once have been athletic, and a pathetic stoop in the broad shoulders. He sat in a deep armchair, with Dora contentedly nestled on his knee. In a hammock near him sat a lady, with a dark, lovely face, beautifully arched brows, and soft eyes, so like Dora's that a stranger might have guessed their relationship.

Mr. Carman, though still an invalid, was wonderfully better, and both he and his wife were full of praises of the great, beautiful West, its scenery, its climate, and its possibilities.

"I have come to the conclusion," Mr. Carman said, after an enthusiastic description of a sunset in the Rocky Mountains, "that it is no wonder we Canadians are proud of our country."

"Then you and Aunt Denise shall be 'Sons and Daughters,'" cried Jackie, "and you can read a paper about the West at our very next meeting. That will be fine!"

And Uncle Archie and Aunt Denise were accepted then and there as members of the S. A. D. O. C.

The travellers had only arrived the day before, so there was still much to ask and tell; but Dora and her parents had already had a long talk as to plans and prospects, and the little girl was radiant with delight over the arrangements that were decided upon. Marjorie, who could not help being a little cast down at the prospect of a separation from her cousin, wondered that Dora did not seem to mind at all. But when, by and by, they strolled off together to the grape-arbour for a talk, she understood the reason of this cheerfulness.

"I want to tell you all about our plans," Dora began, as soon as they were seated in their favourite nook. "You see, mother says that dear father, though he is certainly better, won't be able to work for a long, long time. Next winter they will probably go to Barbadoes, where some friends of mother's are living; and if they do, I am to stay with you all winter again,—if you will have me, Marjorie! Your mother says she will!"

"Have you!" Marjorie exclaimed. "Oh, but I am glad! I don't know what I will do without you all summer, but it is fine to know that at least we will have the winter together."

Then Dora burst into a peal of laughter, and clapped her hands over the news that she had to tell.

"Oh, I've got the best to tell you yet," she said. "Father and mother have quite decided to stay here, in Fredericton, all summer! They want to rent a furnished house, just as close to this one as they possibly can; and then we will be together almost every minute, just as we are now. Won't it be lovely?"

Marjorie sat quiet for a minute, and thought it over with shining eyes. Then she gave Dora a regular "bear-hug," and cried:

"I feel just like Jackie does when he dances a war-dance! I was going to say that it was too good to be true, but mother says she doesn't like that saying, for there is nothing too good to come true sometime, if it isn't already. Come and tell Jack and Aunt Kathie, quick! They will be almost as glad as I am!"

So these little Canadian Cousins went hand in hand down the garden-path, full of happy thoughts of the long bright summer days that spread before them.