r uncle. Snuggle right down in my arms and
have your cry out."

Anne winked back her tears. "It hurts--to cry," she said rather
unsteadily. "But you see it's--it's lonesome. I wish Rosy Posy was
here."

"Is Rosy Posy one of your little friends at home?" asked Miss Drayton,
wishing to divert Anne's thoughts.

"Yes, Miss Drayton. She's my best little friend. And so beautiful! Such
lovely long yellow curls. She sleeps with me every night. And I tell her
all my secrets. I've had her since I was a little girl."

"Oh! Rosy Posy's your doll, is she?" questioned Miss Drayton.

Anne nodded assent. "Uncle Carey gave her to me. I make some of her
clothes. Louise makes the frilly ones. We were getting her school
dresses ready. Uncle Carey said I really truly must go to school this
year. Then yesterday he came home in such a hurry. Louise thought he was
sick. He never comes home that time of day; and his face was pale and
his eyes shiny. He said he had to go away on business and was going to
take me with him. Louise packed in such a hurry. And I left my dear
Rosy Posy." The child's lip quivered. "Uncle kept saying, 'We ought to
be gone. We ought to be gone. Hurry up. Hurry up.' And we drove away
real fast. Then we got out and got in another carriage. It was so hot,
with all the curtains down! I was glad when we came on the boat. But I
do miss Rosy Posy so bad--and Uncle Carey."

Miss Drayton spoke quickly in her cheeriest tone. "Aren't you glad that
Louise is there to take good care of Rosy Posy? I expect she'll have a
beautiful lot of frilly frocks when you get home. Some time I must tell
you about my pet doll, Lady Ann, and her yellow silk frock."

"I'd like to hear it now," said Anne.

"And I'd like to tell you," smiled back Miss Drayton. "But I must leave
Pat to play ring toss with you while I go to see about my sister. She
isn't well and I want to persuade her to take a cup of broth."

CHAPTER IV

Miss Drayton explained her prolonged absence by relating to her sister
the story of their little fellow-voyager. Mrs. Patterson's languid air
gave way to attention and interest. It was pitiful to think that so near
them a deserted child had sobbed away the lonely hours of the long
night. A faint smile came as the lady listened to the tale of Rosy Posy,
Anne's "best little friend" with the "such lovely long yellow curls."
Then her eyes grew misty again.

"Poor all-alone little one!" she exclaimed. "With no friend,