ing us; and it was very rude of me to have said the
seats belonged to us," added the little girl, getting rather red. "Of
course, the glen is yours now, and the seats too."

"Oh, but do come and sit in it sometimes," said the other child
eagerly. "I am always, always alone all day, except for old Marie; and
it would be so nice to have someone, not quite big, to talk to."

"We will come to-morrow," said Norah,--she felt very sorry for the
little girl when she spoke so sadly of being alone all day--"but I must
go now. I can hear Dan calling, and it is getting late."

"Good-bye," said the little girl. "Won't you tell me your name,
please?"

"Norah--Norah Carew."

"And mine is Una. Good-bye, Norah. Please do come to-morrow."

"Yes, I promise we will come, unless it rains; and then, of course, you
wouldn't be out either," said Norah. "Good-bye."

"Norah!" said Dan severely, as his sister pushed her way up through the
bushes to the top of the bank, "you have been a _very_ long time down
in the glen, and I have called you lots and lots of times and you
wouldn't answer. I think you must have heard!"

"Dan, dear, really I didn't hear," said Norah. "I was talking to the
little foreign girl. Didn't you hear us? She was sitting in our glen,
and her name is Una, and she is a _very_ nice little girl; and she
wants us to come and see her to-morrow, and I said we would if it was
fine. Aren't you pleased, Dan?"

"Yes," said Dan, "very! I heard you talking to someone, and that is
why I wanted to come down too. That's what made me cross, Norah; but I
think the crossness has all gone away now, and I do want to hear about
the little foreign girl, please," and Dan leant back comfortably in his
chair as his sister began to wheel him over the mossy ground.

"Poor Dan!" said Norah; "it was horrid of me not to have heard you
calling."

"I thought perhaps you were talking to a fairy," said Dan.

Norah laughed.

"I wish it had been a fairy," she said. "I would have wished for ever
so many things. Oh dear, Dan, look at the sun! it's quite low, and
mother will be wondering where we are."

"Here's Tom," said Dan. "Mother must have sent him to look for us."

Long before Tom reached them, however, he had begun to cry aloud his
news.

"Mother's gone away! Aunt Edna's ill, and they sent a telegram for
mother. Father's gone too, but he is coming back to-morrow."

"Oh, Tom!" said Norah.

And, "Oh, Tom!" echoed Dan