as she noticed Marjorie
turn a corner with precision.

"Yes," said Mrs. Maynard. "And she's devoted to children. You need have
no fear of Totty."

"Oh, I haven't," said Mrs. Harrison, and then the two friends returned
to the house, and sat down for a long chat.

The girls had a fine time with the baby. They rolled the carriage
carefully, pausing now and then to present their little guest with a
bright autumn leaf, or a big horse-chestnut, which they picked up from
the ground.

"Let's pretend she's an infant princess, and we're kidnapping her," said
Marjorie.

"All right; what's her name?"

"Princess Petronella," said Marjorie, promptly, using a favorite name of
hers.

"I don't think much of that," said Gladys; "I like Ermyntrude."

"Both, then," said Marjorie; for this was a way they often settled their
differences. "Her name is Princess Ermyntrude Petronella; and we call
her Ermyn Pet for short."

"But we ought to call her Princess," objected Gladys.

"Well, we will. But remember we're kidnapping her for a great reward.
Hist! Some one cometh!"

They hustled the carriage behind a great pine-tree, in pretended fear
of a pursuer, though no one was in sight.

"How much shall we charge for ransom?" asked Gladys, in the hollow voice
that they always used in their make-believe games.

"A thousand rubbles," answered Marjorie; "and unless the sum is
forthcoming ere set of sun, the Princess shall be,--shall be----"

Marjorie hesitated. It seemed dreadful to pronounce fate, even in
make-believe, on that dimpled, smiling bit of humanity.

"Shall be imprisoned," suggested Gladys.

"Yes, imprisoned in an enchanted castle."

Totty crowed and gurgled, as if greatly pleased with her destiny, and
the girls wheeled her along the path to the gate.

"She reminds me so much of Dotty Curtis," said Midget. "Let's go down
that way and see if Dotty's out. Mother said we could go two blocks."

On they went, crossing the curbs with great care, and soon turned in at
Mrs. Curtis' house.

Sure enough, there was the nurse wheeling the Curtis baby around the
drive.

"Good-morning," said Marjorie, who was friendly with Nurse Lisa. "How
is Dotty to-day?"

"She's well, Miss Marjorie," replied Lisa; "and who's the fine child
with you?"

"This is little Totty Harrison; and I think she looks like Dot. Let's
compare them."

The veils were taken off the two children, and sure enough they did look
somewhat alike.

"They're b