the line had to be
drawn somewhere, and I could not have my railway system disorganized and
turned upside down by a mere girl. "There's any quantity of 'em, fine
big soldiers, and they all belong to me. And a row of brass cannons all
along the terrace! And every now and then I give the order, and they
fire off all the guns!"

"No, they don't," she interrupted hastily. "I won't have 'em fire off
any guns You must tell 'em not to. I hate guns, and as soon as they
begin firing I shall run right away!"

"But--but that 's what they're there for," I protested, aghast

"I don't care," she insisted. "They mustn't do it. They can walk about
behind me if they like, and talk to me, and carry things. But they
mustn't fire off any guns."

I was sadly conscious by this time that in this brave palace of mine,
wherein I was wont to swagger daily, irresponsible and unquestioned, I
was rapidly becoming--so to speak--a mere lodger. The idea of my fine
big soldiers being told off to "carry things"! I was not inclined to
tell her any more, though there still remained plenty more to tell.

"Any other boys there?" she asked presently, in a casual sort of way.
"Oh yes," I unguardedly replied. "Nice chaps, too. We'll have great--"
Then I recollected myself. "We'll play with them, of course," I went on.
"But you are going to be my friend, aren't you? And you'll come in my
boat, and we'll travel in the guard's van together, and I'll stop the
soldiers firing off their guns!" But she looked mischievously away,
and--do what I would--I could not get her to promise.

Just then the striking of the village clock awoke within me another
clamorous timepiece, reminding me of mid-day mutton a good half-mile
away, and of penalties and curtailments attaching to a late appearance.
We took a hurried farewell of each other, and before we parted I got
from her an admission that she might be gardening again that afternoon,
if only the worms would be less aggressive and give her a chance.

"Remember," I said as I turned to go, "you mustn't tell anybody about
what I've been telling you!"

She appeared to hesitate, swinging one leg to and fro while she regarded
me sideways with half-shut eyes.

"It's a dead secret," I said artfully. "A secret between us two, and
nobody knows it except ourselves!"

Then she promised, nodding violently, big-eyed, her mouth pursed up
small. The delight of revelation, and the bliss of possessing a secret,
run each other very