to kiss his little
daughter. "Jane will take you out to walk, and Aunt Gertrude will show
you the pictures again if you ask her."

The evening before she had evinced a decided liking for Gertrude.

"Where are you going?" There was a quick apprehensiveness in her tone
as she caught his hand.

"On some business," with a smile.

"Take me, too. I don't want to stay here alone," she cries,
imperiously.

There is a soft rustle in the hall. Madame has come down in advance of
Laura. The carriage stands waiting to take them to the station.

Floyd bites his lips in annoyance. Since they left Devonshire, Cecil
has scarcely been an hour out of his sight save when asleep. He cannot
take her now,--the thought is absurd.

"No, my dear. It would not amuse a little girl, and I shall be too
busy. Do not be naughty," he entreats.

"I want to go with you. I will not stay here!"

"Cecil!"

"I will run away," she says, daringly. "I will not look at pictures nor
walk with Jane."

"Then you will be naughty, and papa cannot love you," bending his face
down to hers. "I shall not be glad to come back to a little girl who
will not please or obey me."

"Take me, then!" There is a great, dry sob in her throat.

If only Madame Lepelletier were away! His experience with children is
so very limited, that he is almost weak enough to yield to this sweet
tyranny.

"Kiss me." Eugene has driven around with his horse and the buggy.

Cecil drops her hands by her side, and her large, deep eyes float in
tears, but her brilliant lips are set. Just once they open.

"You are naughty to me," she says, with childish audacity.

"Very well." He takes a slow step as if to give her time for
repentance. He could bestow an undignified shake upon the proud little
mite, but he refrains.

"Jane, come and look after Miss Cecil," he exclaims, authoritatively.
Then he gives her a quick kiss, but she stands with swelling chest and
eyes glittering in tears, watching him out of sight.

Aunt Laura rustles down.

"Mutiny in the camp," says madame, with a little laugh; and though
Cecil does not understand, she knows she is meant.

"Floyd will have his hands full with that child," comments Laura. "She
is not so angelic as she looks."

Floyd has stepped into the buggy. Sultan snuffs with his thin nostrils,
and paces with proud grace.

"There's a beauty for you, Floyd," Eugene says, triumphantly. "You
cannot find his match anywhere about here."

Floyd i