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You’re a nice girl, Margaret, I can tell. ”
    Margaret felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She was suddenly as light as air. “Thanks,” she said. She smiled radiantly and ran back to join Roy out on the street.
    â€œTell your grandmother I’m looking forward to meeting her,” Mrs. Nightingale called as they crossed the street.
    â€œWe will!” chorused Margaret and Ray.
    â€œIt certainly was a serendipitous event, meeting you two!”
    â€œSame here,” yelled Margaret. “See you tomorrow!”
    â€œSer-en-di-pi-tous,” said Roy. He pulled out his notebook and slowed down so he could write. “That will be my longest word ever.”
    â€œIt means lucky,” said Margaret.
    â€œHow do you know?”
    â€œI just do. Go ahead”—she executed a perfect cartwheel, then kept on walking—“look it up.”
    It did mean lucky, she thought happily. She could feel it in her bones. Mrs. Nightingale was lucky to have met them, and they were lucky to have met Mrs. Nightingale.
    She could hardly wait to introduce her to Gran.

Chapter 6
    â€œ. . . and her husband’s name was really Livingston Dudley Tudley . . .”
    â€œBut they called him Tubby because he was fat.”
    â€œBut he didn’t mind,” said Margaret, “because being fat wasn’t so bad back then.”
    â€œBeing overweight is never a good idea,” Roy said.
    â€œAnd Mrs. Nightingale was singing with a bucket over her head, because she’s tone-deaf,” said Margaret.
    â€œYou can imagine how hard it is on her with a name like Nightingale,” said Roy.
    They were standing side by side in front of Gran, soldiers reporting on a successful mission. She had been looking from one eager face to the other like a spectator at a tennis match. Now she put down the pen she’d been using to address an envelope, and smiled. “It sounds as if you two have had a very busy morning.”
    â€œThey’re really great, Gran,” Margaret said. “You’ll like them.”
    â€œMrs. Tudley loves to dance,” said Roy. “We told her you might want to go to her dance class at the Recreation Center.”
    Margaret pinched him, but it was too late. Two bright red spots appeared on Gran’s cheeks. Her mouth flattened into a disapproving line.
    â€œYou’re good to think of me, Roy,” she said stiffly, “but I’m not so old yet that I view dancing with a bunch of old women in a cafeteria as something to look forward to.”
    Roy looked hurt.
    The smile fell from Margaret’s face. “That’s not very nice, Gran,” she said. “You don’t even know Mrs. Tudley and Mrs. Nightingale.”
    â€œYeah, and when Mrs. Tudley came over to say she was sorry about Tad, you hid,” said Roy. “And she’s shrinking.”
    â€œDon’t you think you should at least give them a chance?” said Margaret. “Meet them a few times, and see if you like them?”
    â€œI don’t know. . . .” Gran picked up the envelope and looked at it thoughtfully in silence for a minute. “I’ve been sitting here for a while, composing a letter to Mr. Whiting. If Tad were here, we’d have a good laugh over all these silly rules. But by myself . . . ?” She looked at Margaret with a stony face. “I’m afraid I don’t have the energy for any of it right now, Margaret. I don’t even feel like walking this to the mailbox, if it comes to that.
    â€œSince you have so much energy, Roy, why don’t
you
take it?” she said suddenly, holding out the envelope to him. “You might even want to take it directly to Mr. Whiting. Maybe he’s another resident of Carol Woods I should get to know.”
    â€œMe?” Roy said. He took a step back. He was afraid to take the letter, Margaret realized, and hurt by the