of the children could remember, there was no family reunion at the house. Mother had decided in mid-November to spend Thanksgiving week with her only sister, Julia, who lived in Bangor. Aunt Julia had not been well all the Fall, and each of her letters urged Martha's long-deferred visit more and more impatiently. Mrs. Harvey mentioned her intentions one night to Linda, when the oldest daughter had dropped in on her way home from church.
"Of course," she said, "I do feel dreadfully not to be home Thanksgiving, but I am sort of anxious about Julia, and I think she'd appreciate my going up to spend Thanksgiving with her. I thought Father and Roy could have dinner with you, or with Junior—either one. I don't know as I've ever visited on Thanksgiving Day, and think I'd like to, for once. What do you think?"
"Why," said Linda, perplexed, "if you really want to go, mother, of course we can manage all right."
"I thought you could, too," went on Mrs. Harvey pleasantly. "Perhaps Junior and Sally could take that New York trip of theirs this year. And if Elsie comes home you could take care of her at your house, couldn't you?"
"Yes, indeed, mother. Oh, we'd all get on all right. Don't worry. We'll miss you, of
