e, but went on
laying out a pile of horse-chestnuts which he had gathered in rows on
the ground.

"Be your name Ronald?" said Connie, coming up to him.

He looked at her, then sprang to his feet, and politely took off his
little cap.

"Yes, my name is Ronald Harvey."

"I ha' come to fetch yer," said Connie.

"What for?" asked the boy.

"It's Mammy Warren," said Connie in a low tone.

"What?" asked the child.

His face, always pale, now turned ghastly white.

"She's such a nice woman," said Connie.

She sat down by Ronald.

"Show me these purty balls," she said. "Wot be they?"

"Chestnuts," said the boy. "Did you ever see them before? That was not
true what you said about--about----"

"Yus," said Connie, "it is true. I'm a little gel stayin' with her now,
and you--I want you to come back with me. She's real, real kind is Mammy
Warren."

The boy put his hand up to his forehead.

"You seem a nice girl," he said, "and you look like--like a lady, only
you don't talk the way ladies talk. I'm a gentleman. My father was an
officer in the army, and my darling mother died, and--and something
happened--I don't know what--but I was very, very, very ill. There was
an awful time first, and there seemed to be a woman called Mammy Warren
mixed up in the time and----"

"Oh, you had fever," said Connie, "and you--you pictured things to
yourself in the fever. But 'tain't true," she added earnestly. "I'm wid
her, an' she's real, real, wonnerful kind."

"You wouldn't tell a lie, would you, girl?" said the boy.

Connie bit her lip hard.

"No," she said then in a choked voice.

"I wonder if it's true," said the boy. "It seems to me it was much more
than the fever, but I can't--I can't _quite_ remember."

"She is very kind," echoed Connie.

"Children, come along in," said a cheerful voice at that moment; and
Connie, raising her eyes, saw the sturdy form of Mrs. Warren advancing
up the path to meet her.

"She was terrible cruel in my time," said Ronald, glancing at the same
figure. "I don't want to go back."

"Oh, do--do come back, for my sake!" whispered Connie.

He turned and looked into the beautiful little face.

"Boys have to be good," he said then, "and--and brave. My father was a
very brave man." Then he struggled to his feet.

"Well, Ronald," said Mrs. Warren, "and 'ow may yer be, my dear little
boy? This is Connie, a cousin o' yourn. Wot playmates you two wull be!
Ye're both comin' back with me to m