some."

Miss Kirby looked interested. "There are a good many pretty walks about
Belham," she said.

When Patricia came down the path, her strap of books over her shoulder,
and a get-there-early-or-die expression on her face, Mrs. Cory was just
turning out of the gate.

"Are you going in my direction, grandmother?" Patricia asked; and
grandmother replied that she was.

Later, sauntering slowly homewards, Mrs. Cory met the doctor. He drew
rein. "Well?" he asked.

She laughed softly. "Patrick, if you'd been with us! It was like making
a royal progress. There were exactly six babies, and I quite lost count
of the dogs, not to mention several old ladies, all waiting to pass the
time of day with Patricia. My only wonder is that she ever gets to
school at all. Patrick, I don't believe you realize what a dear child
she is."

"Don't I!"

Mrs. Cory stood a moment looking down the pleasant tree-bordered street.
She had not been in Belham before since the death of Patricia's mother,
more than eight years ago, having been abroad most of the time. Now she
found herself regretting this long absence. She had been missing a good
deal--she would like to have had some share in Patricia's life all these
years.

"I was beautifully early this morning," Patricia announced proudly at
the table that noon.

"And you will be this afternoon?" grandmother asked.

"I'm not so apt to be late afternoons," Patricia answered; "I suppose
it's just happened that way."

The next morning after breakfast, Patricia lingered. "Are you going my
way _this_ morning, grandmother?"

"Yes, dear," Mrs. Cory answered.

Patricia caught the smile in her father's eyes and wondered.

Half-way to school she suddenly stopped. "Grandmother, you're doing it
on purpose--to _make_ me get there early!"

Mrs. Cory smiled. "You see I didn't want to lose my treat, Patricia."

When Friday noon came Patricia had not one tardy mark for those four
days; and on that same Friday noon she met her Waterloo.

It was the Dixon baby who caused her downfall.

He was one of Patricia's most ardent admirers; and when he saw
her coming that noon he made as straight for her as his very shaky
two-year-old legs would allow. Of course he tumbled down and scratched
his snubby little nose; and of course Patricia stopped to pet and
comfort him, carrying him back to the house. "Mrs. Dixon," she called
from the gate, "oh, Mrs. Dixon!"

But Mrs. Dixon had just stepped over to a nei