And he was not ill, or Mother would have been with him.

Being poor wasn't the trouble.

Bobbie knew it was something nearer the heart than money could be.
"I mustn't try to think what it is," she told herself; "no, I mustn't.

I AM glad Mother noticed about us not quarrelling so much.

We'll keep that up." And alas, that very afternoon she and Peter had what Peter called a first-class shindy.
They had not been a week at Three Chimneys before they had asked Mother to let them have a piece of garden each for their very own, and she had agreed, and the south border under the peach trees had been divided into three pieces and they were allowed to plant whatever they liked there.
Phyllis had planted mignonette and nasturtium and Virginia Stock in hers.