arther away Martha and Edith halloed in Girl Scout fashion.

Again Tory returned to her work, having now acquired the impression
that she was no longer alone.

Once more she looked suddenly around.

A figure behind the clump of shrubs undoubtedly stirred.

Rising, Tory walked in that direction.

She had not moved more than a few feet when the intruder, aware of
discovery, came toward her.

A small figure Tory beheld dressed in a pale green linen frock,
crumpled and torn. The large leghorn hat had a band of green velvet
ribbon encircling it. In one hand she bore a small yellow leather suit
case.

"Why, Lucy, what in the world does this mean? Are you by yourself? Do
Mr. or Mrs. Hammond know where you are?"

"No, you may tell them," the little girl answered calmly. "I am on my
way to Kara. I am going to take her back to the Gray House or
somewhere else, where we can be alone. I hated Kara sitting still in a
chair and never moving and all of you keeping me from her."

"Then you do care for Kara?" Tory demanded, putting her arms about the
picturesque little figure.

Coldly but politely Lucy drew away.

"Care? What do you mean? Do you mean do I love Kara? Why, I don't
really like anyone else very well except Kara and perhaps Billy and
now Mr. and Mrs. Hammond. Mrs. Hammond says I must be more devoted to
her than any one else, but I'm not truly, now that I know Kara is
ill."

"You have run away, haven't you, Lucy? I am sure I don't know how you
ever got this far without some one stealing you. You are the most
delightful looking child I ever beheld. Come and sit down for awhile
and rest and eat some sandwiches. I know you ran away before breakfast
and must be hungry and tired. Afterwards I'll take you to Kara."

A creative impulse had seized hold of Tory.

More than anything she could imagine at the moment she longed to make
a sketch of Lucy, of the little figure in the pale green gown against
the deeper background of green, the big hat hanging behind her
shoulders. The child's cheeks were a vivid rose, her dark hair still
in the stiff aureole that was unlike other children's.

But it was not the color that Tory wished to represent. That would
have to come later. She must try to catch the grace of the small
figure, sitting serenely on the ground a few feet from her munching
sandwiches.

Tory would have preferred that her portrait model be engaged in some
other occupation. But this made no special difference