l me something about your life with your father."

"Oh, things were so different there. Houses, and there were always
servants, so you didn't ever need to fan yourself. Babo and Nalla were
always about. Babo used to take me out in a chair that had curtains
around and a big umbrella overhead. Sometimes Chandra went with him. And
the streets were funny and crooked, and houses set anywhere in them. I
liked going up in the mountains best, it wasn't so hot. And the trees
were splendid, and beautiful vines and flowers of all sorts. Mrs. Dallas
went the last time. She had two girls and a big boy. I did not like
him. He would pinch my arms and then say he didn't. I liked the girls,
one was larger than I. And we swung in the hammocks the vines made. Only
I was afraid of the snakes, and there are so many everywhere. Alfred
liked to kill them."

She shuddered a little and glanced about the room with dilated eyes.

"They come into your houses sometimes. Nalla used to catch them and
sling them hard on the ground, and that stunned them. And we used to
make wreaths of the beautiful flowers. Agnes Dallas knew so many stories
about fairies, little people who come out at night, when the moon
shines, and dance round in rings. They slip in houses, and the nice ones
do some work, but the wicked ones sour the milk, and spoil the bread,
and hide things. And, sometimes, they change children into a cat, or a
rabbit, or something, and it is seven years before you can get your own
shape again. Do you have them here?"

"There is no such thing. That is all falsehood," was the decisive
comment.

"But--Agnes knew of their coming. And she had seen them dancing on the
grass. But if you speak or go near them, they disappear."

Miss Winn came out to the sitting-room.

"Oh, you are here," she said. "I thought you were out of doors. You
ought to take a run. What a wonderful garret you have upstairs, Miss
Eunice. But I am afraid we shall fill it up sadly. There were so many
things to bring. I do not believe we shall find use for half of them. I
want a few mouthfuls of fresh air. I suppose I can walk up the street
without danger of getting lost if I turn square around when I return?
Don't you want to come, Cynthia?"

Cynthia was ready.

"You had better wrap up warm. It gets chilly towards night."

"It was a long stretch on shipboard. We stopped at several ports,
however. But I am glad to be on solid ground. Come, child."

She had brought down a