up now, if you don't care." She got to her feet. "The fireworks were lovely, boys," she called down to them. "I believe that was the finest pinwheel I ever saw! We've had a lovely day, I think," she went on. "The salmon never was better, or the peas either, and the table looked real pretty, I thought, with those streamers. Haven't we had a nice day?" she asked pleasantly.
"Very nice, mother," sighed Linda.
"Very nice," conceded Junior wearily from the lawn, where he sprawled, full length.
Mrs. Harvey moved over toward the door.
"I declare I believe I shall sleep to-night!" she said, with a satisfied little sigh. "I believe I shall. It's been such a grand old Fourth and such a happy one too—with all my children here. I hope you'll always keep up these family reunions after I'm dead and gone," she said. "I believe in them. Well, good night. Sweet dreams to you all. Better not stay up much later."
The screen door slammed behind her. She stood a moment at the foot of the stairs, then before going up glanced into the parlor to see if everything was all right; squeaked down the hall to the sitting-room and back again; and looked into the dining-room. One of the little breezes from the meadow was stirring the window-cur-
