Produced by Joel Erickson, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders GLORIA AND TREELESS STREET _By Annie Hamilton Donnell_ 1910 By ANNIE HAMILTON DONNELL CHAPTER I. Gloria sat in her favorite chair on the broad veranda. The shadow of the vines made a delicate tracery over her white dress. Gloria was lazily content. She had been comfortable and content for seventeen years. “There's that queer little thing again, going off with her queer little bag!” Gloria's gaze dwelt on the house across the wide street. Down its steps a small, neat figure was tripping. Gloria recognized it as an old sight-acquaintance. “I wish I could find out where she goes at just the same time every day! In all the blazing sun--ugh! I'll ask Aunt Em sometime. And that makes me think of what I want to ask Uncle Em!” It was natural that Aunt Em should remind one of Uncle Em. Gloria's thought of the two as the composite guardian of her important young peace and happiness--as well as money. For Gloria was rich. “I suppose I might go down and ask him this morning. It's a bore, but perhaps it will pay. Abou Ben Adhem, I'll do it!” Abou Ben Adhem, the great silver cat in her lap, blinked indifferently. He was Gloria's newest pet, so named with the superstitious fancy that it might have the effect of making “his tribe increase,” and Abou Ben Adhem's “tribe” was exceedingly valuable. Gloria set the big, warm weight gently down upon its embroidered cushion. “Good-by, old dear. Be glad you aren't a human and don't have to go down town in a blazing sun!” A few moments later the dainty girlish figure came out again, gloved and hatted. Aunt Em followed it to the door. “Walk slowly, dear--just measure your steps! And be sure to take the car at the corner. Perhaps you can bring Uncle Walter back with you.” It was only Gloria who called him Uncle Em. He was not really uncle anyway to Gloria, being merely her kind, good-natured, easily-coaxed guardian. But for ten years he and this sweet-faced elderly woman in the doorway had been father and mother to the orphaned girl. “Of course he'll come, if I tell him to!” laughed back Gloria from the sidewalk. “Auntie, please ask Bergitta to come out and move Abou Ben's cushion into the shade when the sun gets round to him. He'd never condescend to move without the cushion.” At the corner no car was in sight and Gloria proceeded at a leisurely pace to the settee that offered a comfortable waiting-place a block above. The small, neat person of the House Across the Street was there with her big, shabby bag. She moved over invitingly. “But you'd better not sit down!” she said laughingly. “If you do, no car will ever come! I've been here a small age.” The shabby bag between them attracted Gloria's curious gaze. It might contain so many different things--even a kit of unholy tools, jimmies and things! It looked decidedly like that kind of a bag.