to the double gates of iron,
through which a broad walk in the midst of grass and trees curved
toward the house.

The gate opened readily to Nettie's touch and then shut with a loud
bang that attracted the attention of a big, black dog which came
bounding across the grass. At his first bark Nettie's heart stood
still. She paused just inside the gate, too terrified to move, but in
a moment she felt secure, for she saw Alene coming along the walk,
calling imperiously to Prince.

"What a shame to scare the little girl! Go right home, sir! Don't be
frightened, Nettie, he won't harm you. He only barks that way to let
you know how glad he is to see you! Come in, girlie!"

"It's only a note from Laura; I can't wait," said Nettie shyly.

Alene glanced at the note.

"Isn't that fine? Yes, tell her I'll be down at seven, if Uncle Fred
is willing! And you are going, too; I thought there was something up
when I saw your hair; Laura's so proud of it and no wonder! But come
in just for a moment!"

She took Nettie's hand and led her to the house, back to the immaculate
kitchen, where, sitting in the rocking chair, the little girl enjoyed
some cakes and milk provided by Kizzie, while Alene brought Prince in
to beg her pardon and get better acquainted.

Their friendship grew so rapidly that by the time Nettie was ready to
go home she was brave enough to stroke his glossy head, and she
screamed with delight when, accompanied by Alene, all three raced to
the gate.

"You won't be afraid next time," said Alene encouragingly as she held
the gate open.

"No indeed, thank you!" returned Nettie, "Good-bye! Good-bye, Prince!"

She turned away, joyfully clasping to her breast a satin-striped box,
in which beneath paper lace and tinsel was the most delicious candy; a
whole box full all but a few bites, as Alene had said; while the latter
leaned over the wall calling more good-byes, and Prince kept up a
continuous barking that said so plainly, once you understood his
language, "Good-bye! Good-bye! Come back again!"'

But when Alene, with an armful of flowers, reached the Lee house that
evening, she found poor Nettie in a state of revolt; the process of
being washed and dressed in her stiff-starched pique and having her
plaits undone was very trying to both her and Laura.

She glanced up at the yellow canary swinging so blithely in his cage.

"I do wish people were like birds," she cried, "they are always dressed
just i