ng against the wall and Brimbecomb looking down at her. He came
forward and stationed himself at the girl's side, placing one hand upon
her shoulder.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Why, little Miss--I'm sure I don't know the child's name," cried
Everett breaking into merriment again, "she says you're a--Prince,
Horace."

Shellington lowered his eyes to Flea, who was gazing up at him
fearfully. She did not look at Everett; but made an uneasy gesture with
her hand toward Horace. She had never seemed so appealingly adorable,
and inwardly Everett cursed the stupidity that had allowed so many
weeks to pass by without his having become Flea's friend.

There was silence, during which the girl locked and unlocked her
fingers. Then she relieved it with the frank statement:

"This man here didn't seem to know nothin' about ye; so I told him ye
was a Prince."

Ann's voice from the drawing-room caused Everett to turn on his heel,
leaving Horace alone with Flea.

For a moment they were both quiet. Flea considered the toe of her
slipper. A tear dropped to the front of her dress as Horace took her
hand and led her into the library.

"Fledra," he said, using the new name with loving inflection, "what are
you crying for?"

"I thought you was mad at me," she shuddered. "That bright-eyed duffer
what I hate laughed when I said ye was a Prince. I hate his eyes, I do,
and I hate him!"

Shellington did not correct her mistakes in English as he had done so
often of late. With shaded remonstrance in his tone, he said:

"Fledra, he is going to marry my sister, and he's my friend."

"He ain't good enough for Sister Ann," muttered Flea stubbornly.

"She loves him, though, and that is enough to make us all treat him with
respect."

Turning the subject abruptly, he continued:

"I'm expecting you to work very hard in school, Fledra. You will, won't
you?"

"Yes," replied Flea, making sure to pronounce the word carefully.

Horace smiled so tenderly into her eyes that she grew frightened at the
thumping of her heart and fled precipitately.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fledra Cronk's school days lengthened slowly into weeks. She was making
rapid strides in English, and Miss Shellington's patience went far
toward keeping her mind concentrated upon her work. At first some of the
girls at the school were inclined to smile at her endeavors; but her sad
face and questioning eyes drew many of them into firm friends.
Especially did sh