ts base. Under the arch Grace
and Cleo felt their way, and their attention was almost immediately
arrested by a series of the pasteboard cards, signed "Peter Pan."

"Little Royal's work," said Grace quietly. "Wonder if we shall see him?"

Up from the rocks a sparkling little stream played. Its origin was a
spring under a hill, and as it trickled along, in the tender growth of
green, the girls felt instinctively the beauty of the little spot so
hidden and isolated from the inhabitants of Sea Crest.

"Lovely!" breathed Cleo. "Little Royal could hardly be lonely here."

"Oh, yes, he could," contradicted Grace. "A child wants more than
scenery to play with."

They had gone but a short distance in the woods when something was heard
threshing through the bushes.

"It's he," said Cleo, and she secretly hoped no armed caretaker might
appear with the child.

A sudden swish, then from under a tangled elderberry bush there emerged
a darling little boy. At the sight of the intruders he stood stock still
in evident amazement.

"Oh, I knew you would come!" he exclaimed, clapping his little hands in
glee. "I knew my letters would reach you! What are your names, fairies?
Please tell me, and are we going right now to Mama?"

"How do you do, little boy," said Cleo. "Are you Royal?"

"Yes, I'm Royal, and I know who you are. I've been expecting you a very
long time."

He came forward a little hesitatingly. Grace could not resist rushing up
to him and throwing her arms about the pretty child.

"Oh, you perfectly darling little boy," she exclaimed. "We know who you
are, for Kitty has told us," and she hugged him quite indecorously for a
fairy.

He was so pretty. His light hair cropped at his ears did not succeed in
preventing curls to tangle and his blue eyes were roguish as even a baby
boy's should be. With these unerring features his color reflected the
outdoor treatment, and his little form evinced unmistakably that quality
for which we have no better term than "good breeding."

Cleo stooped to pay her homage, and when Grace released Royal she caught
him up.

"Why do you want to go to mama?" she asked. "Where is mama?"

"Oh, far away, and she cannot get back till the Royal comes in. Her boat
is Royal too," he said proudly.

"And who takes care of you?" pressed Grace, keeping in mind the
prospect of almost any interruptions spoiling this valued confidence.

"Kitty-dear does. There is Hannah, of course, but I don't lik