uld not do such a thing; how could you be so silly?" She
was decidedly vexed with him.

"I thought perhaps you really did not care to have anything to do with
me after--"

"You thought I would stop speaking to you for that!" she exclaimed.
"Why Bess told me how sorry you were, and at any rate it would have
been acting as if I never did wrong myself."

"You wouldn't do anything so horrid."

"I _was_ a little surprised at you," Dora, acknowledged, "but it is so
disagreeable not to be friends with people. I am glad you and Ikey
have made up; he was telling me about it."

By this time they had reached the gate, and Carl said, "I don't think
the girls are at home; they were going out with Aunt Zelie, but you
might come in and wait, if you don't mind talking to me while I look
over some books for father."

"I don't mind talking to you," she answered, laughing, "but I can't
stay long. I want 'Water Babies.' Louise said I could have it to
read."

"Come in, then, and I'll find it for you."

They went up to the star chamber together, and Dora sat down in the
west window, where a little wintry sunshine still lingered, while Carl
looked for the book.

"I can't see how you could be such a goose as to think I would not
speak to you," she said presently.

"I suppose I knew I deserved it." Carl laid "Water Babies" on her lap,
and, kneeling on the floor with his elbows on the window-sill and his
chin in his hands, looked thoughtfully out at the bare branches of the
maples.

"I'll tell you what it is," he said after a minute's silence, "Aunt
Zelie is a trump."

"I know that, only I'd call her a prettier name," said Dora, smiling.

"You can't know really till you have been very had. She was so good to
me. It makes a fellow feel awfully when somebody like her cares a lot
for him and he goes and disappoints her."

"But you won't again, I'm sure."

"You see," Carl went on, "she cares for me particularly because I am
named for Uncle Carl. Has Bess or Louise ever told you about him?"

Dora shook her head.

"He was Mamma's brother, you know, and he was splendid. I thought
there was nobody like him when I was a little fellow. He used to be
here a great deal, and we were glad when he married Aunt Zelie because
we were so fond of them both. The only thing we did not like about it
was that Aunt Zelie went away to live, but they came to see us very
often. Then Uncle Carl died. He was skating with some people, and a
friend of