Nancy Carey: We can't afford that horrible little house? Oh, Mother, that's wonderful! Mother, do you remember after Father - well, you remember how we all made ourselves feel better by talking about the things that had been fun with him? And the best thing we thought of was that time we were all in Maine.
Margaret Carey: And we saw the yellow house in Beulah.
Nancy Carey: And we peered into the windows, and wasn't it wonderful? And nobody lived there!
Gilly Carey: Hey, that was years ago. You're wild.
Peter Carey: I remember it.
Gilly Carey: You weren't even born!
Nancy Carey: Well, Mother, a few weeks ago, I decided to try and find out about that yellow house. So I wrote to the postmaster in Beulah, and he answered! His name is Ossium Popham - isn't it a beautiful name?

Nancy Carey: You see, Mother, we were meant to live here!

Julia Carey: Oh, Nancy, it's all been my fault. I'll do my share of the chores from now on, and I'll never mention the Fergusons again. Oh, and my dresses weren't even imported, I made them myself!
Nancy Carey: You did? Oh, Julia, if I do all the dishes, will you help me with my dress for the housewarming? When it comes to sewing, I'm all thumbs!

Margaret Carey: Julia, dear!
Julia Carey: Aunt Margaret!
Margaret Carey: Welcome to the yellow house! How was your trip?
Julia Carey: How, it was dreadful! No parlor car on the train, and this wilderness! When I think of last summer, of the glorious times Gladys Ferguson and I had! But I must remember the last thing dear Mrs. Ferguson said to me, "Don't let poverty drag you down, Julia. Keep high thoughts and try not to let them get soiled by the grime of daily living."
Nancy Carey: Oh, lovely! Especially the part about the grime of daily living.

Osh Popham: Tom Hamilton! Why I didn't know you for a minute! I didn't expect you'd be comin' back. Give me quite a shock.
Tom Hamilton: I just drove by the yellow house. There are some people out there.
Osh Popham: Yes, they're lovely folks named the Careys. They've been living there.
Tom Hamilton: How long they been living there?
Osh Popham: Oh, uh, not long. Wonderful folks, the Careys. You'll love them. They put in a new chain pump for that old wooden one.
Tom Hamilton: Who gave them permission to live there?
Osh Popham: Well, uh, you did.
Tom Hamilton: I did? Oh no, I never even heard of them! Why didn't you write?
Osh Popham: Well, I did. I wrote you every week and kept you abreast of everything that was happening.
Tom Hamilton: Well, I didn't get any letters.
Osh Popham: Well, you see, I never mailed them. I didn't know how you'd take the situation. You see, here were these folks who needed a house, and they fell plum in love with yours, and I let 'em have it. Wrote you all about it. Put 'em up here, where Mariah wasn't likely to be lookin'. Here are the letters, the ones I wrote and the ones Nancy Carey wrote. Hers are on top. I wrote you because Mariah was a-naggin' me. Nancy Carey wrote hers out of a grateful young heart. I hope you'll read hers before you make up your mind what to do.