s was the initial clash of arms.

"No? Well, don't let me keep you then. Is that your room?"

"If you don't do what I want, I'll yell so everybody in the house will
come to see what's the matter."

Miss Watts glanced at her and smiled.

"That will be interesting," she said.

Whereupon Isabelle opened her mouth and emitted long, loud shrieks. Miss
Watts continued counting handkerchiefs. The howls grew more artificial
in quality, but louder in volume. Isabelle grew red in the face. This
was hard work. After about three minutes of bedlam Miss Watts remarked:

"But where is the audience, Isabelle? I'm afraid you have cried 'Wolf!
Wolf!' too often."

Isabelle stopped long enough to shout:

"I didn't cry 'Wolf!'"

"No?" said Miss Watts, seating herself by the window. "I've finished
now. Is your concert over?"

The child stared at her.

"Maybe you'd be interested in the story of the man who cried 'Wolf!
Wolf!'"

Isabelle smarted under a sense of defeat.

"I won't have any stories now."

"Very good. Of course, I only tell stories as a favour," she added,
pointedly.

The youngster went into her own room. Miss Watts heard her banging
around in there. Presently she appeared again.

"Why did the man cry 'Wolf! Wolf!'?" she demanded.

"Sit down, and I'll tell you," answered Miss Watts, pleasantly.

So the story was told, and the new relationship inaugurated which was to
last for several years.

Miss Watts was a woman of considerable intellectual capacity, with a
passion for books. She was ill-fitted for the sole charge of a
five-year-old girl of Isabelle's vitality, but her poise and sense of
humour won the child's respect. After that first experiment there were
no more spasms of howling. Miss Watts never tried to sentimentalize
their relationship. She recognized the child's unusual quality, and her
precocity. She was at present an unendurable human being, thanks to her
bringing up. Her ideas and ideals were servant-made. If she could be
brought to see herself as socially an outcast, because of her bad
manners, Miss Watts knew it would effect a cure.

On her side, Isabelle found Miss Watts's mind a storehouse of treasures.
She told stories of all countries, and all times, and she told them
well. The only punishment ever inflicted was the abolishment of the
story hour, and this was the only chastisement Isabelle had ever
regarded as such. There was a marked improvement in her behaviour and
the members of he