Surely they weren’t glad to see her go! There must be a mistake.... She clasped her hands and leaned forward in an attitude of great earnestness. “You know how I love you!” she cried. Her voice almost failed her. Mrs. Baron came forward, all her resentment gone. “Indeed, we do,” she declared. “There, you’re not to go away feeling badly. I’m very sorry you feel that you ought to go. And we’ll be very anxious to have you come back as soon as you possibly can.” “Oh, thank you so much!” She lifted impulsive arms to Mrs. Baron’s neck and hugged her. She looked back at the others, and they could see that there was happiness in her eyes as well as tears. Then she was gone, in Baron’s wake. The sound of her voice, anxiously questioning, drifted up the stairs until it was suddenly quieted by the closing of the front door. “I’m afraid we’ll have to go out on a street-car,” said Baron. “When you want to come back, the Thornburgs will probably send you in an automobile.” She clasped her hands. “Fine!” said she. Baron frowned--a fact which she remarked. “I wasn’t thinking about the automobile,” she hastened to assure him. “Why the unconcealed rapture, then?” “Oh, I thought you might be starting out to lose me, as you would a cat or a dog, you know. I’m glad there’ll be a way for me to get back.” Baron refused to see any humor in her remark. “I wish you’d quit looking at it like that,” he said. “Some day you’ll understand better why I think it is a good thing for you to be friendly with the Thornburgs. Just now you may rest assured that we’re going to miss you.” He realized that he was being rather serious, and he tried to end his observations more cheerfully. “And whenever it pleases you to honor us with your presence again, you’ll find the latch-string, et cetera, et cetera.” * * * * * There was a very pleasant old garden at the rear of the Thornburg residence--a fairly roomy region of old trees and vines and rustic seats and dreams. In the midst of this sylvan scene stood a very old, friendly apple-tree, and beneath this, in the evening dusk through which Baron and Bonnie May were escorted out into the garden, sat Mrs. Thornburg. Thornburg had received them, and it was his idea that it would be a fine thing for the two guests to take Mrs. Thornburg unawares. She regarded the visitors rather wearily at first as they emerged from the shadows and stood before her. Then she recognized Baron, and her face brightened wonderfully. There was a child with him, and of course it would be _the_ child. She arose from her many-cushioned seat and leaned a little forward, while Bonnie May regarded her with earnest eyes. “You see, we’re here!” said Baron, trying to strike a light and cheerful note. Mrs. Thornburg scarcely seemed to notice him. “Yes,” she said dreamily. She did not remove her eyes from Bonnie May’s.