er own age, and he was taller than she, while all the others
were shorter. "Don't eat anything or drink anything that they give
you," he said again. "I will give you something to eat."

He sat down beside her and put a little package on the table before
them. He opened it and took out some bread and meat, some
strawberries, a little flask full of cream, and a larger one full of
water. He gave Kathleen a part of all these and kept a part for
himself. "I am not sure," Kathleen said, "that I ought to let you talk
to me, because, you see, I don't know who you are."

She had let several people talk to her that evening, without knowing
who they were, but this boy seemed to be somehow altogether different.

"My name is Terence," he said. "Now I know you are going to ask
'Terence what?' It's Terence nothing; I have no name at all except
Terence."

"I know a boy named Terence," Kathleen said, "and I don't like him a
bit."

"I hope that won't make any difference about your liking me," said the
boy.

"Oh, not at all," said Kathleen. "It isn't his name that I don't like;
it's himself. He is only just as old as I am, and he looks--" Kathleen
stopped, surprised at herself, for she had not thought of it before.
"He looks a little like these men here, who all seem to be so old;
and, besides, he isn't nice at all."

"Then let's not talk about him," said the boy. "Will you tell me what
your name is?"

"Oh, yes; didn't I tell you? My name is Kathleen O'Brien."

"And must I call you Kathleen or Miss O'Brien? You see you will have
to call me by my first name, because it is the only one I have, and so
I think you ought to let me call you by your first name."

"But if you have only one name," Kathleen said, "it is your last name
just as much as it is your first, so perhaps you ought to call me by
my last one."

"Oh, no," Terence answered; "you see my name ought to be a first name,
only I haven't any last one, so I think I ought to call you by your
first one."

Kathleen did not say that he might, but he afterward did. She thought
that it would be better to change the subject. "It's just as if we
were at a picnic and had brought our own luncheon, isn't it?" she
said. "And all these other people are eating just as if they were at
home. Why don't we do the same way they do?"

"Because," Terence said, "we are not like them. We mustn't talk about
it aloud. You see they are the Good People, and we are not. I don't
know what I am at