ible thing I ever saw," Pon agreed.

"And they froze Gloria's heart; so now she can't love you any more."

"Well, they froze her heart, to be sure," admitted Pon, "but I'm in
hopes I can melt it with my love."

"Where do you s'pose Gloria is?" asked the girl, after a pause.

"She left the witch's house just before we did. Perhaps she has gone
back to the King's castle," he said.

"I'm pretty sure she started off in a diff'rent direction," declared
Trot. "I looked over my shoulder, as I ran, to see how close the
witches were, and I'm sure I saw Gloria walking slowly away toward the
north."

"Then let us circle around that way," proposed Pon, "and perhaps we
shall meet her."

Trot agreed to this and they left the grove and began to circle around
toward the north, thus drawing nearer and nearer to old Blinkie's house
again. The Wicked Witch did not suspect this change of direction, so
when she came to the grove she passed through it and continued on.

Pon and Trot had reached a place less than half a mile from the witch's
house when they saw Gloria walking toward them. The Princess moved with
great dignity and with no show of haste whatever, holding her head high
and looking neither to right nor left.

Pon rushed forward, holding out his arms as if to embrace her and
calling her sweet names. But Gloria gazed upon him coldly and repelled
him with a haughty gesture. At this the poor gardener's boy sank upon
his knees and hid his face in his arms, weeping bitter tears; but the
Princess was not at all moved by his distress. Passing him by, she drew
her skirts aside, as if unwilling they should touch him, and then she
walked up the path a way and hesitated, as if uncertain where to go
next.

Trot was grieved by Pon's sobs and indignant because Gloria treated him
so badly. But she remembered why.

"I guess your heart is frozen, all right," she said to the Princess.
Gloria nodded gravely, in reply, and then turned her back upon the
little girl. "Can't you like even me?" asked Trot, half pleadingly.

"No," said Gloria.

"Your voice sounds like a refrig'rator," sighed the little girl. "I'm
awful sorry for you, 'cause you were sweet an' nice to me before this
happened. You can't help it, of course; but it's a dreadful thing, jus'
the same."

"My heart is frozen to all mortal loves," announced Gloria, calmly. "I
do not love even myself."

"That's too bad," said Trot, "for, if you can't love anybody, you can't
expe