Christine brush
down these steps."

"I told her to, but Mother Hull sent her for berries," explained Lena.

They passed along, and finally reached the outer door. The fresh air
blew upon them.

"Oh!" exclaimed Cora. "Isn't it good to be in the open air?"

"Hush!" whispered Helka. "It is best that you make no remarks. I will
tell you why later."

Mother Hull was crouched at the steps. She looked up first at Helka,
then at Cora. My, what eyes! No wonder Helka said they might kill one
in a dream.

Down the steps and at last on the ground! Cora's feet fairly tingled.
Helka tripped along lightly ahead of her. Two ordinary-looking men
were working on the grounds. The place seemed just like any other
country house that might be old and somewhat neglected, but there was
not the slightest evidence of it being an abode of crime or of gypsies.

"This way, Cora," said Helka. "There is a splendid path through the
woods this way. I love to gather the tinted leaves there."

As they turned the men also turned and made their work fit in exactly
to the way the girls were going.

"Our guard," whispered Helka. "They will not speak to us, but they
never take their eyes off us. I don't mind them, but I hate the dogs.
They never call them unless they fear I might speak with a stranger."

"What sort of dogs are they?" asked Cora eagerly.

"I don't know; not thoroughbreds, I can tell you that. I could make
friends with any decent dog, but these--must be regular tramps. I hate
them."

Cora, too, thought she might have made friends with any "decent" dogs,
but she had the same fear that Helka spoke of regarding mongrels.

A roadway was not too distant to be seen. If only some one would come
along, thought Cora, some one who might hear her voice! But if she
should shout! They might both be attacked by those savage dogs.

"Oh, see those gentian," exclaimed Helka. "I always think of David's
eyes when I find gentian. They are as blue and as sweet and----"

"Why, Helka! You leave me nothing to say for my fair-eyed friends.
They have eyes, every one of them. Here are Betty's," and she grasped
a sprig of a wonderful blue blossom. "And here are dear, darling
Belle's," picking up a spray of myrtle in bloom, "and here are the
brown eyes of Bess," at which remark the eyes of Cora Kimball could
hardly look at the late, brown daisy, because of a mist of tears.

"All girls!" exclaimed Helka wonderingly.

"Oh, I know