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 "What's that?" asked Aunt Fannie, looking from one to the other of us.

"Oh," I said, "Bess has been on the crest of the wave ever since she left home; because so many unexpected things have turned up, and I was afraid she'd 'turn turtle' in the breakers, at this last piece of good news, if I didn't warn her to keep her feet on the ground."

"You needn't worry," said Bess, beginning to look natural again; "I guess I can keep my equilibrium all right—and there's something better than sand under my feet, too."

Uncle Fred laughed. "I guess Bess won't lose her head and go under, for joy over a little trip like that," he said. And I knew that Bess agreed with him clear down to the bottom of her heart.

Later in the evening, when Bess and I were looking over some unmounted photographs of Uncle Fred's, I said, very low,—"Bess, how are you feeling?"

"Fine," said Bess, looking square at me.

"Don't you feel sick at all?"

"Nope."

"Well, if you're sick in the night, what are you going to do?"