e her, and
I do like Kitty-dear," he said, with a brave echo in his childish voice.

"And where do you live? Where is your house?" Cleo was peering through
the trees, but could see no sign of anything like a dwelling.

"Oh, I haven't any house; I must live outdoors. Dr. Grant ordered it,
and I must roll in the mud. But I get tired rolling, and there isn't any
real mud here, except what Kitty-dear fetches in the boat. Then we make
mud pies, and that's fun. But you are going to take me for a boat ride
now, aren't you? I have wanted one for such a long time." His voice was
wistful, and his blue eyes were fastened on the boat, that through the
trees could be seen, rocking on the water's edge, where Tommie waited.

"Where is Kitty?" asked Cleo without answering the appeal for a long
delayed boat ride.

"She's busy with Uncle Pete," replied Royal. "Hannah wants lots of
things done when she comes, but sometimes she gives Kitty-dear money,
then we have cookies, but we never dare tell Hannah, 'cause I'm not
allowed cookies," he said with a cute twist of his yellow head. "But you
are the fairies who took my letters, aren't you? I knew when they were
gone from their letter boxes on the birch trees, that I would surely
get an answer! And see, I was right!"

"I think I hear Kitty coming," said Grace. "Yes, here she is."

"Well, I never," called Kitty gleefully. "Look who blew in!"

"Hello, Kitty," called back Cleo, delighted to notice the high spirits
Kitty flaunted. "We just did blow in from the bay to make a very early
call. Hope we haven't interrupted any gardening?" This applied to
Kitty's outfit, for she wore blue overalls, and a boy's cap, that looked
better on her cropped head than could any other sort of hat, and her
bare feet completed a really charming rustic picture.

"Gardening, you said it!" exclaimed Kitty in pardonable slang. "That's
what I have to do when 'her nibs' is in town. But thank goodness she's
out for the day, and may have to run up to the city" (this in a mocking
tone). "I hope she does, and I hope she gets tripped up in the run so
she can't get back for a while. What do you think of my little Royal? I
call him little Boy Blue, and he calls me Bo Peep, don't we have good
times, Roy?"

In answer the small boy rubbed his head against Kitty's overalls, like a
fond little kitten.

"We felt we must see you, Kitty," said Cleo seriously, "and we'll have
to talk fast, as we left home so early and have to