so sweet that Jims'
heart beat. Then she lifted her head and turned her face and saw him.
Jims felt something of a shock. She was not pretty after all. One side
of her face was marked by a dreadful red scar. It quite spoilt her
good looks, which Jims thought a great pity; but nothing could spoil
the sweetness of her face or the loveliness of her peculiar soft,
grey-blue eyes. Jims couldn't remember his mother and had no idea what
she looked like, but the thought came into his head that he would have
liked her to have eyes like that. After the first moment Jims did not
mind the scar at all.

But perhaps that first moment had revealed itself in his face, for a
look of pain came into the lady's eyes and, almost involuntarily it
seemed, she put her hand up to hide the scar. Then she pulled it away
again and sat looking at Jims half defiantly, half piteously. Jims
thought she must be angry because he had chased her cat.

"I beg your pardon," he said gravely, "I didn't mean to hurt your cat.
I just wanted to play with him. He is _such_ a very handsome cat."

"But where did you come from?" said the lady. "It is so long since I
saw a child in this garden," she added, as if to herself. Her voice
was as sweet as her face. Jims thought he was mistaken in thinking her
angry and plucked up heart of grace. Shyness was no fault of Jims.

"I came from the house over the wall," he said. "My name is James
Brander Churchill. Aunt Augusta shut me up in the blue room because I
spilled my pudding at dinner. I hate to be shut up. And I was to have
had a ride this afternoon--and ice cream--and _maybe_ a movie. So I
was mad. And when your Very Handsome Cat came and looked at me I just
got out and climbed down."

He looked straight at her and smiled. Jims had a very dear little
smile. It seemed a pity there was no mother alive to revel in it. The
lady smiled back.

"I think you did right," she said.

"_You_ wouldn't shut a little boy up if you had one, would you?" said
Jims.

"No--no, dear heart, I wouldn't," said the lady. She said it as if
something hurt her horribly. She smiled again gallantly.

"Will you come here and sit down?" she added, pulling a chair out from
the table.

"Thank you. I'd rather sit here," said Jims, plumping down on the
grass at her feet. "Then maybe your cat will come to me."

The cat came over promptly and rubbed his head against Jims' knee.
Jims stroked him delightedly; how lovely his soft fur felt and h