ou tell me the same as Cousin Patty," was the reply, and the strange
girl gave Patty a look of loyalty and admiration that won her heart.

"That's right, Zaly, dear," Patty cried, "you're my girl, first, last and
all the time! And we'll both do as Betty says,--because she knows it all!
She knows lots more than I do."

"Indeed I do!" and the saucy Betty laughed. "Well, then, I'll arrange for
a dance for Azalea very soon. Do you dance?"

"I don't know," replied Azalea, "I never tried."

CHAPTER VII

MYSTERIOUS CALLERS

Big Bill Farnsworth came into the nursery, where Patty was playing with
the baby. It was the nurse's luncheon hour, and Patty always looked
after Fleurette then.

"Take her, Daddy," Patty cried, holding up the soft, fragrant little
bundle of happy humanity, and Farnsworth grasped the child in his strong
careful way, and tossed her up high above his head.

The baby laughter that followed proved Fleurette's delight in this
performance, and she mutely insisted on its repetition.

"Azalea does that," said Patty, in a troubled tone, "she is strong and
very athletic, I know, but I can't bear to see anybody toss baby around
but you."

"No; Azalea oughtn't to do it,--she is strong, but she isn't careful
enough. Don't allow it, Patty."

"I do forbid it, but she comes in here when I don't know it,--or she
picks baby out of her carriage, Winnie says, and tosses her clear up and
catches her again."

"I'll speak to her about it; why, she'll drop the child some day! She
must not do it!"

"I wish you would speak to her," Patty sighed. "Azalea is really a
trial. I don't know what to do with her. Sometimes she is so sweet and
docile that I think I'm teaching her to be a civilised person, and then
she flies off at a tangent and she's as unruly and intractable as she
was at first."

"How long has she been here now?"

"Nearly a month. I've tried and Betty has tried,--and, yes, Azalea has
tried herself,--but we can't seem to--"

"Camouflage her!"

"That's just it! I want her to look like the background she's against
here,--and she doesn't!"

"I should say not! Last night at dinner she threw herself back in her
chair and yawned openly--"

"Openly! It was all of that! I saw her,--across the table through the
flowers. And, Billee,--she's queer--that's what she is,--queer!"

"Have you noticed that, too? Yes, she _is_ queer,--here take this
Little Flower. She's nearly asleep."

"So she is,--give