gether. Very funny stories they were, and the children laughed as they listened.
"Uncle Edward died before he was grown up, didn't he?" said Phyllis, as Mother lighted the bedroom candles.
"Yes, dear," said Mother, "you would have loved him. He was such a brave boy, and so adventurous. Always in mischief, and yet friends with everybody in spite of it. And your Uncle Reggie's in Ceylon—yes, and Father's away, too. But I think they'd all like to think we'd enjoyed talking about the things they used to do. Don't you think so?"
"Not Uncle Edward," said Phyllis, in a shocked tone; 'he's in Heaven."
"You don't suppose he's forgotten us and all the old times, because God has taken him, any more than I forget him. Oh, no, he remembers. He's only away for a little time. We shall see him some day."
"And Uncle Reggie—and Father, too?" said Peter.
"Yes," said Mother. "Uncle Reggie and Father, too. Good night, my darlings."
"Good night," said every one. Bobbie hugged her mother more closely even than usual, and
