the only people that think very highly of Washington," remarked one of the cousins in a tone which was half assertive, half inquiring.

"No, indeed," replied Mrs. Travilla; "one English historian has said that Washington's place in the history of mankind is without a fellow, and Lord Brougham said more than once, 'It will be the duty of the historian in all ages to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man; and until time shall be no more will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Washington.'"

"That's high praise, grandma, isn't it?" said Eric Leland; "and I think our Washington deserved every word of it."

"As I do," she replied; "he was just, generous, disinterested—spending so many of the best years of his life in fighting for the freedom of his country, and that without a cent of pay—wise, fearless, heroic, self-sacrificing; he feared God, believed in Christ, was a man of prayer, fully acknowledging divine aid and direction in all that he attempted and all he accomplished. He was a wonderful man, a God-given leader to us in a time when such an one was sorely needed."

"When was the war quite over, grandma?" asked Ned.

"The treaty of peace was signed in Paris on the 20th of January, 1783," replied Mrs. Travilla. "News did not then fly nearly so fast as it does now, and it was not till the 17th of the following April that Washington received the proclamation of peace by our Congress. On the 19th of April, the anniversary of the shedding of the first blood of the war, at Lexington, eight years before, the cessation was proclaimed at the head of every regiment of the army. That was by Washington's general orders, in which he added, 'The chaplains of the several brigades will render thanks to Almighty God for all His mercies, particularly for His overruling the wrath of man to His own glory, and causing the rage of war to cease among the nations.'"

CHAPTER III

Noticing now that weak little Ned began to look weary and sleepy, Mrs. Travilla bade the other children go out and amuse themselves a while wherever they liked about the house and grounds; so they quietly left the room.

"Please don't go away, grandma. Please stay beside me while I take my nap," murmured the little fellow, opening his eyes to look up at her, then closing them again.

"No, darling, I won't," she said soothingly. "I have a book and am going to sit here beside you and read while you sleep."

Elsie and the others refreshed themselves with some lively sport upon the lawn; then the young guests, thinking it time to return to their homes, mounted their bicycles and departed, leaving Elsie sitting in the veranda, whiling away the time with a bit of fancy work while waiting and watching for the return of father and mother and the other loved ones from their city shopping.

Meantime, she was thinking how very much she would like to give her dear sister Grace a handsome wedding present, and regretting that she had not expected the wedding to come so soon and saved her pocket money for that purpose. She had not wasted it, but had been more liberal in gifts to some others and spent more in self-indulgences than now seemed to have been at all necessary.

But these regretful meditations were at length interrupted by the carriage turning in at the great gates and coming swiftly up the driveway.

"Oh, I am so glad you have come back at last, papa, mamma, and all the rest of you dear folks," she exclaimed, hastening to meet them as they alighted and came up the veranda steps. "I suppose you have bought ever so many beautiful things."

"Yes, so we have," replied her mother.

"Many more than were at all necessary," laughed Grace. "If this sort of kindness killed, I am afraid I should not live very long."

"But it does not, and you look very rosy and well for you," laughed Elsie as Grace reached her side, put an arm about her and gave her a kiss.

"Yes, she has stood the ordeal very well so far," remarked Dr. Harold, giving his affianced a very lover-like glance and smile.

"I am ever so glad of that," said Elsie. "And oh, I do want to see all those pretty things! Mayn't they be carried into the library, mamma? Grandma and Ned will want to see them, and they are in there."

"Yes," replied Violet, leading the way, "and we will all go in there and examine them together. I hear Ned talking, so there is no danger of waking him out of a nap."

All followed her lead, a servant, bearing the heavier packages, bringing up the rear. All enjoyed examining the purchases—rich silks, laces, ribbons and jewelry—and some minutes were spent in lively chat over them and about other pretty things seen in the city stores.

Then Grace was summoned to the sewing room to inspect the work going on there. Violet went with her, and Harold hastened away to see a patient, the captain and Elsie following him as far as the veranda, he seating himself and drawing her to his knee to pet and fondle her, as was his wont when they happened to be alone together.

"Well, darling little daughter," he said, "I hope you have had a pleasant time at home with grandma and Ned and cousins while papa and mamma were away?"

"Yes, sir; grandma was telling us about Washington and Braddock's defeat, and it was very interesting. So the time passed very pleasantly. Papa, what beautiful things you and mamma and the rest brought home from the city! I wish"—she paused, blushing and hanging her head.

"Well, dear child, speak out and tell papa what you want," he said encouragingly.

"I was just wishing I could buy a handsome wedding gift for dear Sister Grace; but I did not think she was going to be married so soon, and—and my pocket money is almost all gone."

"Well, never mind," he said with a smile and patting her cheek. "I have been considering an increase of pocket money for you and Ned just at this time. I shall give each of you $50 to-morrow, to do with exactly as you please—buy for yourselves or for others or save up for some future time."

"Oh, papa, thank you, thank you!" she cried joyously. "And now can you tell me what to buy for Sister Grace?"

"We will consult mamma about that," he said, "and perhaps she will go with us into the city to-morrow to make the purchase."

"Ah, Elsie wanting to do some shopping, too?" asked Violet's pleasant voice as she stepped out from the hall door to the veranda and came quickly toward them. "No"—to her husband—"do not get up; I will take a seat by your side," suiting the action to the word.

"Yes, mamma," answered the little girl; "surely I ought to give a wedding present to Sister Grace; and papa is going to give me money—$50—to buy it with."

"Oh, that is nice," said Violet. "Levis, my dear, you are certainly the best of fathers, as well as of husbands."

"According to my very partial wife," he returned with a pleased little laugh.

"And this one of your daughters, too, papa," said Elsie.

"As well as all the kith and kin who know him well," added Violet. "What do you think of buying with that large sum of money, Elsie?"

"I want your advice about that, mamma."

"I believe Grace feels very rich now—in silks, satins, laces, jewelry"—Violet responded in a musing tone. "Ah, well of that last few ladies can have too much. A