“Vacation days have come again,
Joyous, glad, and free.
We’ll brim them full of happiness
As ever days could be.”

Adele sang this little song as she and the Sunny Six skipped across the meadows on that last day after school. Then, parting with her friends at the cross-roads, she went on her homeward way, walking more demurely, since she was now in the village, but her thoughts were dancing as joyously as before.

“I’m so happy, so happy!” she said to herself. “I wish I might share it with some one who hasn’t as much as I have.”

And just as she turned in at the lilac gate, she thought of the some one. Into the house she skipped, and, pausing in the lower hall, she called eagerly, “Mumsie mine, where are you?”

“Climb the golden stairs, daughter,” a sweet voice replied. And up the softly-carpeted stairway Adele tripped, and, dancing into her mother’s sunny sewing-room, she threw her arms about the pretty little woman who was busily making buttonholes. Then, sinking down on a near-by stool, she exclaimed, “Adorable Mother, have I been a real good girl this year?”

“Indeed you have,” Mrs. Doring replied brightly. And then she laughingly added, “That reminds me of when you were a little girl, Pet, for you always asked that when you were about to request a favor.”

“Did I?” Adele inquired with twinkling eyes, as she took off her broad-brimmed, daisy-wreathed hat and fanned her flushed face. Then, laying her head against her mother’s knee, she added, “Mumsie, darling, I haven’t changed very much, I guess, for I want to ask a great, big, and perfectly beautiful favor of you. And since I have been so good, don’t you think that you might say yes?”

“Oho, Mistress Adele,” laughed her mother, “I cannot grant a favor unless I know what it is.”

“It’s something just ever so nice,” Adele said, “and it won’t be a mite of trouble to you. I want to invite that orphan girl, Eva Dearman, over to spend Saturday and Sunday. She’s just a dear, mumsie, and her home was as nice as ours before her father lost his money and died, and then, soon after that, her mother was taken. Oh, mumsie, when I think how it might have been me, homeless and all alone, I’m so thankful, and yet that makes me all the sorrier for Eva, and I would so like to share my home with her just for two days.”

There were tears in Mrs. Doring’s eyes as she held Adele close. Then she said: “Do go and get Eva this very moment. I would like to meet your friend.”

“Oh, Adorable Mother!” Adele exclaimed as she sprang up. “I fly to do your bidding. I’m sure that Mrs. Friend will be willing to let her come, and won’t Eva be happy, though!”

Adele tossed her school-books into her room as she hurried past, and then down the stairs she flew. Out to the barn she skipped, and soon Firefly was hitched to the little red cart. Adele waved to her mother as she drove out of the lilac gate. She was so happy that, as soon as the village was passed, she just had to sing.

In the orphanage Eva Dearman was patiently helping Amanda Brown with her mending, little dreaming of the joy that was soon to be hers.

Adele drew rein in front of the rambling brick building, and telling Firefly that he should have a lump of sugar if he would stand just ever so still until she came back, into the Home she went.

Mrs. Friend’s cheery voice bade her enter the office, and how the kind matron beamed when she saw Adele’s shining face.

“Why, lassie,” she exclaimed, “you look as though the nicest thing imaginable was just about to happen.”

“And so it is,” Adele replied, “if you will be a kind fairy and grant my wish.”

“It is granted,” exclaimed Mrs. Friend. “Now tell me what it is.”

“I want to borrow one of your children for over Sunday. Mother would have written a note, but she was too busy making buttonholes for the Lend-a-Hands,” Adele explained.

“A note is not at all necessary,” Mrs. Friend replied. “Which of my children do you wish to borrow? I’m like the old woman who lived in the shoe: I have so many children, I don’t know what to do.”

“Can’t you guess which one I want to borrow?” Adele asked. And the matron smilingly replied, “Indeed I can, and you will find Eva in the sewing-room, I believe.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Friend!” the girl exclaimed gratefully, and then she tripped down the hall and rapped on a door. Eva herself opened it, and with a little cry of joy she stepped out and exclaimed, “Oh, Adele, I’ve just been pining to see you.”

“Eva,” Adele said mysteriously, “you have an invitation. Would you like to accept it?”

Eva caught her friend’s hands, and with shining eyes she replied, “Would I? Why, Adele, that’s a needless question! Indeed I would! Is it for all of the girls, or is it just for me?”

“Just for you this time,” Adele replied, and then she told her what the invitation was.

Tears rushed to Eva’s eyes, but through them a radiant smile was shining as she joyously exclaimed, “Am I really and truly to live in your home for two whole days?”

Adele had not thought that it would mean so much to the little orphan.

Half an hour later, Eva, dressed in her Sunday best and looking radiantly happy, sat beside Adele in the little red cart, and Firefly, having had his lump of sugar, was trotting along in his briskest fashion.

“Oh, Adele,” Eva exclaimed joyfully, “I was having such a hard time to see the sunny side of life this morning, but now just everything sings and glows.”

And Adele, having brought so much joy to another, was radiantly happy herself.

Soon they were turning in at the driveway, and there was Adorable Mother waiting on the porch to greet them. Her heart had been full of tenderness for this orphan even before she had seen her, but when she beheld the slender, graceful girl with soft golden-brown hair, which, though braided, would escape in ringlets, and the sweet blue eyes which looked up at her so yearningly, those mother-arms reached out and held Eva in close embrace.

“Mumsie, dear,” laughed the delighted Adele, “is it manners to hug a young lady before you’ve been introduced?”

“Yes, and kiss her, too,” Mrs. Doring replied, as she kissed Eva’s flushed cheeks, and then she added kindly, “Adele’s friend is very welcome to our home.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Doring,” Eva said, smiling through the tears that would come.

“There now,” Mrs. Doring said briskly, “you two girls skip up-stairs and have a nice visit before supper.”

So up the broad and softly-carpeted stairway they went, hand in hand. Eva gave an exclamation of delight when they entered Adele’s room.

“It’s just like a fairy bower, and I’m so glad that I know the fairy who lives in it.”

It was indeed a pretty room. The wallpaper was the color of pale sunshine, and looped about on it, here and there, were wreaths of wild roses. The window-seat coverings, the curtains, the downy sofa-pillows, all carried out the wild-rose design. There were bird’s-eye-maple furniture, low shelves overflowing with good books, a little brass bed, its pale yellow spread bordered with wild roses, and the big drooping fern in the sunny bay-window. Surely there never was a cheerier room, nor one better suited to the maiden who dwelt therein.

“I’m glad that you like it,” Adele exclaimed, “and some day I want a picture of you to put in this long frame with my very best friends, the Sunny Six.”

“Do you really?” Eva asked happily. “Oh, Adele, you are so dear and so good to me that it isn’t a bit hard to see the sunny side when you are around. Now if it’s manners, I’m going to poke about and examine your room, just as if I were visiting a museum.”

“Of course it’s manners,” laughed Adele. “I’m very proud of my ornaments. Father’s younger brother is a great traveler, and he has brought me things from all parts of the world. See this blue bowl with the dragon wound about it? A little girl in Japan gave it to Uncle Dixon for me. He said that her name was Wistaria, and that she looked as though she had just stepped off of a Japanese fan.”

“Wouldn’t you love to see her!” Eva exclaimed. “I’m so eager to visit Japan some day when the cherry-trees are in blossom, and sit on the floor and drink tea in the funny way that they do.”

So with happy chatter the two girls wandered about the room, and Adele told the story of each ornament. Then drawing Eva to the long mirror, she laughingly exclaimed, “And now I will show you the life-sized portrait of two beautiful girls.” Eva, looking in the mirror, saw two happy faces smiling out at them.

“Look closely,” Adele was saying. “See how true to life the artist has made them. He has even put in the freckles.” Suddenly a boy’s voice exclaimed from the doorway, “Vanity! Vanity! Thy name is Girl!”

“Oh, Jack Doring!” Adele cried, whirling about. “It isn’t any such thing. You were in front of your mirror for ages this morning, trying on seven different neckties. But, oh, I forgot. Eva, you haven’t met my brother Jack, have you? He isn’t famous for anything as yet, unless it is for dodging work.”

“How do you do, Miss Eva?” Jack said solemnly, as he made a low bow. “Don’t believe a word that Sis says. I have acquired fame this very day, of which my small sister knows nothing. I have been appointed Pirate the Terrible, which means that I am now chief of the band of pirates to which I belong; and, by the way, Sis, they are all coming over here this evening to get that fudge which you promised to make for us when we delivered the box.”

“Honestly, Jack Doring?” Adele asked. “Why, I don’t believe that there’s a square of chocolate in the whole house.”

“Well, there will be,” Jack replied. “You see to inviting the girls and I’ll get the chocolate and the walnuts. Mother said that we might have the kitchen to-night.”

When Jack had gone his way, Adele hugged her friend as she exclaimed, “It will be a party for you, Eva, and I want you to have just the nicest time.” Then, as the supper-bell was ringing, they made ready and went down the stairs, arm in arm.