is
round velvety head.

"I like cats," explained Jims, "and I have nothing but a gobbler. This
is such a Very Handsome Cat. What is his name, please?"

"Black Prince. He loves me," said the lady. "He always comes to my bed
in the morning and wakes me by patting my face with his paw. _He_
doesn't mind my being ugly."

She spoke with a bitterness Jims couldn't understand.

"But you are not ugly," he said.

"Oh, I _am_ ugly--I _am_ ugly," she cried. "Just look at me--right at
me. Doesn't it hurt you to look at me?"

Jims looked at her gravely and dispassionately.

"No, it doesn't," he said. "Not a bit," he added, after some further
exploration of his consciousness.

Suddenly the lady laughed beautifully. A faint rosy flush came into
her unscarred cheek.

"James, I believe you mean it."

"Of course I mean it. And, if you don't mind, please call me Jims.
Nobody calls me James but Aunt Augusta. She isn't my whole aunt. She
is just Uncle Walter's half-sister. _He_ is my whole uncle."

"What does he call you?" asked the lady. She looked away as she asked
it.

"Oh, Jims, when he thinks about me. He doesn't often think about me.
He has too many sick children to think about. Sick children are all
Uncle Walter cares about. He's the greatest children's doctor in the
Dominion, Mr. Burroughs says. But he is a woman-hater."

"How do you know that?"

"Oh, I heard Mr. Burroughs say it. Mr. Burroughs is my tutor, you
know. I study with him from nine till one. I'm not allowed to go to
the public school. I'd like to, but Uncle Walter thinks I'm not strong
enough yet. I'm going next year, though, when I'm ten. I have holidays
now. Mr. Burroughs always goes away the first of June."

"How came he to tell you your uncle was a woman-hater?" persisted the
lady.

"Oh, he didn't tell me. He was talking to a friend of his. He thought
I was reading my book. So I was--but I heard it all. It was more
interesting than my book. Uncle Walter was engaged to a lady, long,
long ago, when he was a young man. She was devilishly pretty."

"Oh, Jims!"

"Mr. Burroughs said so. I'm only quoting," said Jims easily. "And
Uncle Walter just worshipped her. And all at once she just jilted him
without a word of explanation, Mr. Burroughs said. So that is why he
hates women. It isn't any wonder, is it?"

"I suppose not," said the lady with a sigh. "Jims, are you hungry?"

"Yes, I am. You see, the pudding was spilled. But how did you know?"

"