loam in close-set thickets.

From the library bay windows where they stood, the children noticed
dandelions in the grass and snowdrops under the trees and recognised the
green signals of daffodil and narcissus.

Already crocuses, mauve, white, and yellow, glimmered along a dripping
privet hedge which crowned the brick and granite wall bounding the
domain of Seagrave. East, through the trees, they could see the roofs of
electric cars speeding up and down Madison Avenue, and the houses facing
that avenue. North and south were quiet streets; westward Fifth Avenue
ran, a sheet of wet, golden asphalt glittering under the spring sun, and
beyond it, above the high retaining wall, budding trees stood out
against the sky, and the waters of the Park reservoirs sparkled behind.

"I am glad it's spring, anyway," said Geraldine listlessly.

"What's the good of it?" asked Scott. "We'll have to take all our
exercise with Kathleen just the same, and watch other children having
good times. What's the use of spring?"

"Spring _is_ tiresome," admitted Geraldine thoughtfully.

"So is winter. I think either would be all right if they'd only let me
have a few friends. There are plenty of boys I'd like to have some fun
with if they'd let me."

"I wonder," mused Geraldine, "if there is anything the matter with us,
Scott?"

"Why?"

"Oh--I don't know. People stare at us so--nurses always watch us and
begin to whisper as soon as we come along. Do you know what a boy said
to me once when I skated very far ahead of Kathleen?"

"What did he say?" inquired Scott, flattening his nose against the
window-pane to see whether it still hurt him.

"He asked me if I were too rich and proud to play with other children. I
was so surprised; and I said that we were not rich at all, and that I
never had had any money, and that I was not a bit proud, and would love
to stay and play with him if Kathleen permitted me."

"Did Kathleen let you? Of course she didn't."

"I told her what the boy said and I showed her the boy, but she wouldn't
let me stay and play."

"Kathleen's a pig."

"No, she isn't, poor dear. They make her act that way--Mr. Tappan makes
her. Our grandfather didn't want us to have friends."

"I'll tell you what," said Scott impatiently, "when I'm old enough, I'll
have other boys to play with whether Kathleen and--and that Thing--likes
it or not."

The Thing was the Half Moon Trust Company.

Geraldine glanced back at the portrait