he saw Jerry coming up the
walk, her face glowing with excitement and her manner one of freedom and
assurance.

Ascending the steps, Jerry nodded and smiled at the lady, whose
expression was not very inviting, and who, to the child's remark, 'I've
comed again,' answered, icily:

'I see you have. Seems to me you come pretty often.' Turning to Charles,
Mrs. Tracy continued:

'Why is she here again so soon? What does she want?'

Quick to detect and interpret the meaning of the tones of a voice, and
hearing disapprobation in Mrs. Tracy's, Jerry's face was shadowed at
once, and she looked up entreatingly at Charles, who said:

'Mr. Tracy sent me for her. She was with him yesterday, and he will have
her again to-day.'

Then Jerry's face brightened, and she chimed in:

'Iss, I'm visiting, I'm invited, and I'm going to stay to eat.'

Mrs. Tracy dared not interfere with Arthur, even if he took Jerry to
live there altogether, and, with a bend of her head, she signified to
Charles that the conference was ended.

'Come, Jerry,' Charles said; but Jerry held back a moment, and asked:

'Where's Maude?'

If Mrs. Tracy heard, she did not reply, and Jerry followed on after
Charles through the hall and up the broad staircase to the darkened room
where Arthur lay, suffering intense pain in the head, and moaning
occasionally. But he heard the patter of the little feet, for he was
listening for it, and when Jerry entered his room he raised himself upon
his elbow, and reaching the other hand toward her, said:

'So you have come again, little Jerry; or, perhaps I should call you
little _Cherry_, considering how you first came to me. Would you like
that name?'

'Iss,' was Jerry's reply, in the quick, half-lisping way which made the
monosyllable so attractive.

'Well, then, Cherry,' Arthur continued, 'take off that bonnet, and open
the blind behind me so I can see your face. Then bring that stool and
sit where I can look at you while you rub my head with your hands. It
aches enough to split, and I believe the bumble bees are swarming; but
they can't get out, and if they could, they are the white-faced kind,
which never sting.'

Jerry knew all about white-faced bumble-bees, for Harold had caught them
for her, and with this fear removed, she did as Arthur bade her, and was
soon seated at his side, rubbing his forehead, where the blue veins were
standing out full and round, and smoothing his hair caressingly with her
fingers, wh