quickly clouded her face, and she sank suddenly into an easy-chair,
saying, "I have had many visitors to-day, so you must say quickly and
plainly what you have to tell me."

"Perhaps I had better come another day," said Nono. It grieved him to
see his princess look so weak and worn. Recollecting himself, he
added, "But I don't see how I could, for I have come just for this a
long way--from near Aneholm Church."

"Aneholm Church!" exclaimed the princess, brightening. "I once had a
dear friend who lived in that neighbourhood. What do you want to tell
me?"

It was hard for Nono to make his story short. He must go back to the
bear, and how he came to the cottage, or the princess would not
understand why he loved Karin and little Decima so, and why he felt he
must help them. The princess must hear, too, about the accident, and
how it was almost his fault, because he had insisted on having Decima
out with the boys.

The princess soon forgot her weariness. This was no common beggar,
with sycophant whine and forced civility. Nono spoke freely, frankly,
and trustfully. She was some one good and powerful, who, he was sure,
would gladly help him. His dark eyes looked into hers as he stood
before her, while his words sprang from his heart, and his hands and
his whole figure helped to illustrate his story. When he came to
little Decima, the sister whom the brothers loved and took care of, who
played with the boys, and was the pet and darling of all, the whole
face of the listener was aglow.

"I was just such a little sister!" exclaimed the princess. "I never
played with a doll in my life. I was the special pet with one of my
brothers, who loved me very dearly. We romped and we painted, and we
made clay figures together. I know what a brother can be!" and the
tears for a moment filled her eyes. She dashed them away, and told
Nono to go on with his story.

Nono wanted to say that he had seen a beautiful thing the princess had
made, and that was one reason why he felt so acquainted with her, but
he wisely kept to Decima and what he wanted for her.

When the princess heard of Decima's misfortune, and of the big room
where all the family lived, the boys always leaving the door open to
blow on the little patient, her heart was quite melted, as it had been
many times before, as she compared her own comfort with the
surroundings of the sick poor. She herself had been long an invalid,
and often for months a prison