it's night, Flaxie? Has the sun set?"

"No, it hasn't. But we ought to brought a imbreller; it's goin' to
rain," replied Flaxie, holding out her hand to catch a drop. "I didn't
spect you'd be so 'fraid, Milly Allen; but if you _are_ afraid, we'll go
right home this minute."

They turned, but the wrong way, and instead of going home, only struck
deeper into the woods. They didn't see the sky at all, and all the light
seemed to come from the gay leaves and the gold of Flaxie's hair; for I
am sorry to say she had lost her hat.

"Ha' pas' two; ha' pas' two," said she dreamily. "Let's go home to the
party."

"Thought you hated the old party," said Milly, falling over a dead tree,
and crying.

"Well, I was only in fun. Don't you know when I'm in fun, you goosie?"

You see they were both getting cross as well as hungry, for dinner-time
was past long ago. In another hour they were half-starved.

"I spect we're lost," said Flaxie, calmly. "Going to rain, too; sun
setting. Pretty near midnight--"

Upon this Milly began to scream.

"Well, then, what made you hide behind the lilac-bush, and not invite
the folks, Milly Allen?" exclaimed Flaxie, feeling obliged to scold
_somebody_; and then she too began to scream, though nobody heard, for
they were three or four miles from the village.

They wound in and out, in and out, among the trees; but it was like a
little bird putting his head through the bars of his cage. It did no
good at all; they couldn't get out.

Thoroughly tired at last and discouraged, the poor babes in the wood lay
down and fell asleep in each other's arms. I know it was a pretty
sight,--the black head and the golden head so close together, and the
beautiful bright trees bending over to say, "Good night."

CHAPTER II.

STAYING OUT TO TEA.

But before the robins had had time to cover them with leaves, or even to
think of it, there was a shout from Preston Gray.

"Hurrah, boys, I've found 'em!"

He and half a dozen other lads had been out all the afternoon in search
of the little wanderers, and here it was five o'clock. They carried them
home on their backs, taking turns, and Flaxie looked up only once to ask
sleepily:

"Is it ha' pas' two?"

"Won't she catch it, though?" said Bert Abbott, who was in great awe of
Mrs. Prim.

But Mrs. Prim was a just woman, and she thought poor little Flaxie's
punishment had been hard enough. Her party was over long ago; the guests
hadn't stayed to supp