Karen, you run to the kitchen and tell Cook to let Nurse know I took Robin upstairs. And then you come out the side door and meet us around the other side of the house. Understand?”

Karen nodded and sped away on her errand. Jennifer led Robin around to the door at the other side of the house, and stealthily they stole up the back stairs.

“Softly!” she warned in a whisper. “Don’t talk!”

“Aw wight!” he whispered back, and a look of compliance came brightly into the eager little face. This was fun. This was a game. He gripped his sister’s hand and took slow, careful steps, with a great flourish of caution, stealing from one stair to another, lifting his fat legs up one at a time with a great effort.

Jennifer had a sudden vision of what that sight would have been to the baby’s mother, and quick tears blurred into her eyes. She stooped and brushed her lips over the small gold curl at the back of the little boy’s neck and felt a deep rush of love such as she had never realized before. Her little motherless brother!

Karen was behind them now, stealing up with exaggerated caution.

At the head of the stairs they stole along the back hall to the third-story back stairs, which went straight up to the playroom.

“Now, you slip softly up there and wait at the top of the stairs for me while I get that candy!” whispered Jennifer.

They nodded delightedly, and she sped down the hall to her own room and was back like a flash with a large beautiful box of bonbons, as yet unopened, the quite recent gift of Peter Willis. It had come while she was too immersed in sudden sorrow to care for anything pleasant like that. And now in the light of what Aunt Majesta had said, it was almost revolting to her. Better get it out of her sight.

Up in the big playroom, bright from a splendid skylight, Jennifer led her young brother and sister to the far corner where their toys had a special place on broad low shelves.

“Now,” said Jennifer, placing two small chairs conveniently, “you may each choose one piece and sit down and eat it. Then you may take out some of your blocks, or any toy you choose that you can play with quietly. Remember, we have to be very quiet! We don’t want any people coming up here to interrupt us. We’ve got something very important to talk about.”

The children settled down on the small chairs and surveyed the handsome box of bonbons with seraphic smiles, lingering, uncertain fingers hovering from one bright luring piece of sweetness to another. They finally settled down with possessiveness on their choice, eyes wide with awe at such privilege.

Before they were fairly taking the first delirious lick, Hazel, her book still in her hand, came light footed, settled down on the big old denim-covered chaise lounge with a lovely dormer window just over her shoulder and went on reading.

Jennifer stopped softly over beside her and plumped a bonbon in her mouth.

“Mm-mm-mm! Thanks!” she murmured and went on with her reading.

Jeremy came up the stairs so silently that they were not aware of his presence until he was among them, reaching over to his sister’s box of confectionery and helping himself.

Then came Tryon, with Heather just a moment behind. They were a bit out of breath and carrying their shoes in their hands, having made as much as possible out of the dramatic side of the situation. They seated themselves cross-legged on the floor and then suddenly rose with outstretched hands for some of the candy.

Jennifer passed the box around again, and while their mouths were well filled she began to talk. “Now, listen! You mustn’t make any noise no matter what I say, not one of you! If you want to speak, raise your hand!”

They sat petrified, even their jaws ceasing action temporarily.

“How many of you want to be separated? Raise your hand if you do.”

The little huddled family sat quivering with horror at the thought that was presented. Not a hand was raised. Their wide-eyed attention culminated in a hoarse whisper from Tryon.

“Whaddaya mean, separated? D’you mean have an operation?”

Hazel stopped reading long enough to giggle at that, but Jeremy looked grave and slid down on the floor beside his younger brother with a protective attitude.

“No, kid, she just means taken away from the rest of us!”

“Oh! Not on yer life I don’t!” said Tryon, a frightened look coming into his eyes. “Do we havta?”

By this time Robin’s lip was puckered, and two great tears were gathering in his eyes.

“I—don’t—vantta!” he burst forth. “I don’t vantta go avay fum you-all!”

“No, of course not!” said Karen crossly. “We won’t go!”

“Who wants us to?” burst forth Heather. “Some aunts? What right have they?”

“They haven’t any!” said Hazel, sitting up sharply and letting her book fall on the floor. “They shan’t get me, I know that, old bossy things!” There was young fury in her face.

“There, now, don’t get noisy!” said Jennifer sharply. “I just wanted to find out how you feel about it. And here’s another question: How many of you would like to stay here and have Cousin Abigail Storm come and take care of you?”

There was another awful silence while the Graeme children stared at one another in consternation.

“Not on yer life!” ejected Tryon.

“I’d wun avay!” declared Robin, with belligerent eyes and trembling lip. “I’d take my Karen and wun avay!”

“I’d put pins and tacks in her bed!” declared Heather.

“Well, that would be the only thing that would make me willing to go away to boarding school!” declared Hazel, who dearly loved home.

“Well,” said Jennifer with satisfaction, “I thought you’d feel that way, so we’re not going to let either of those things happen.