"You precious love, that's just exactly the way I feel!" Phyllis could not keep still another instant. "There are all sorts of funny little chills miming up and down my back and--oh, for goodness' sakes, Tommy, what are you doing to Sir Galahad!" She snatched the basket away from Tom and lifted out a huge tortoise-shell cat with a big blue bow around his neck. Boru, who had been sniffing at Tom's side, gave a sudden jump, and Janet caught him just in time to save the cat. "Get down, sir," she scolded, "and don't you dare to touch that cat. Do you understand?" Boru slunk away with his tail between his legs. "Poor kitty, did he frighten you? I'm so sorry,"--Janet stroked the ruffled fur comfortingly. Phyllis laughed. "What a time we will have with those two!" she exclaimed; "but they'll make friends sooner or later. Sir Galahad is just as much to blame as your dog. He has no manners when it comes to dogs. Go back in your basket, you're in disgrace." "Let's make at least a start for home," Tom suggested. "I'm hungry." "There's a wagon to carry up your bags," Janet said, "but I'm afraid we will have to walk." "Oh, yes, let's do start. I'm simply crazy to see the house and grandmother and Martha. Here, Tommy, you carry puss, now that you have no bags. I'm going to walk with Janet. You and Auntie Mogs can bring up the rear." "You are going to do no such thing," her aunt contradicted her smilingly. "I don't want Janet deaf by the time we reach the house, and besides I want to talk to her myself." She took Janet's arm and started off, and Phyllis and Tom followed. "Phyllis doesn't always talk as much as this," she said as they walked along; "she is just excited to-day." "Oh, but I love it," Janet said quickly. "She's--well she's everything she said I was." She looked at her companion and smiled. Miss Carter was a dainty little lady, Janet thought she looked as though she had just stepped down from a Dresden vase, her cheeks were such a soft shell pink and her eyes such a delicate china blue. Unconsciously she looked down at her feet; they were nearly small enough to fit the slippers in the trunk in the attic. "Oh, Janet, do tell me who lives in that cunning little house!" Phyllis called. "The Waters," Janet told her; "that's Harry looking out of the barn door." Phyllis laughed merrily. "Oh, but he's fat," she cried. "Do you know him!" "Yes." "Like him?" "Not much." "Why!" "Isn't he the boy who is afraid of snakes?" Tom asked, laughing. "Yes." "Well, I don't blame him for that!" Phyllis exclaimed. "I'm scared to death of the crawly things myself, but I do think he is a little bit too fat." She chattered on and succeeded in monopolizing the conversation until they reached the house. At the first glimpse of it she went into ecstasies.