out on the terrace, which he wouldn't have
been on at all on a bad day--if it was rainy. It would have been sure to
make some of the people in the houses wonder at us; just what we didn't
want.

But Wednesday was fine, luckily, and this time I got off from school to
the minute without any one or anything stopping me.

I ran most of the way to the corner of Lindsay Square, all the same;
and I was not too early either, for before I got there I saw Master
Peterkin's sturdy figure steering along towards me, not far off. And
when he got up to me I saw that he had a small brown-paper parcel under
his arm, neatly tied up with red string.

He was awfully pleased to see me so early, for his round face was
grinning all over, and as a rule it was rather solemn.

'What's that you've got there?' I asked.

He looked surprised at my not knowing.

'Why, of course, the poetry-book,' he said. 'I promised it her,
and I've marked the poetry about "Peterkin." It's the Battle of
Blen--Blen-hime--mamma said, when I learnt it, that that's the
right way to say it; but Miss Tucker' ('Miss Tucker' was Blanche's
and the little ones' governess) 'called it Blen_nem_, and I always
have to think when I say it. I wish they didn't call him "_little_
Peterkin," though,' he went on, 'it sounds so babyish.'

'I don't see that it matters, as it isn't about you yourself,' I said.
'I'd forgotten all about it; I think it's rather sharp of you to have
remembered.'

'I couldn't never forget anything I'd promised _her_,' said Pete, and
you might really have thought by his tone that he believed he was the
prince going to visit the Sleeping Beauty--after she'd come awake, I
suppose.

We did not need to hurry; we were actually rather too early, so we went
on talking.

'How about the flowers we meant to get for her?' I said suddenly.

'_I_ didn't forget about them,' he answered, 'but we didn't promise
them, and I thought it would be better to ask her first. She might like
chocolates best, you know.'

'All right,' I said, and I thought perhaps it was better to ask her
first. You see, if she didn't want her nurse to know about our coming to
see her it would have been tiresome, as, of course, Margaret could not
have told a story.

There she was, peeping out of the downstairs window already when we got
there. And when she saw us she came farther out, a little bit on to the
balcony. It was a sunny day for winter, and besides, she had a red shawl
on, so s