"I certainly mean it," said Helen, with a little warmth. "I am more or less fond of all our servants, and Maggie used to be a special favorite." "How extraordinary!" said Flower. "The English nation have very queer and plebeian ways about them; it's very plebeian to take the least notice of servants, except to order them to obey you." "On the contrary," retorted Polly; "it's the sign of a true lady or gentleman to be perfectly courteous to their dependents, and if they deserve love, to give it to them. I'm fond of Maggie; she's a good little girl, and she shall come to our picnic. Come along, Firefly." "I certainly will have nothing to say to Polly while she associates with a servant," said Flower, slowly, and with great apparent calmness. "I don't suppose we need all wait for her here. She can follow with the servant when she gets her. I suppose Polly's whims are not to upset the whole party." "Polly will very likely catch us up at the cross-roads," said Helen, in a pleasant voice. "Come, Flower, you won't really be troubled with poor little Maggie; she will spend her day probably with George, and will help him to wash up our dinner-things after we have eaten. Come, don't be vexed, Flower." "_I_ vexed!" said Flower. "You are quite mistaken. I don't intend to have anything to say to Polly while she chooses a kitchen-maid for her friend, but I dare say the rest of you can entertain me. Now, Mabel and Dolly, shall I tell you what we did that dark night when David and I stole out through the pantry window?" "Oh, yes, yes!" exclaimed the twins. The others all clustered round eagerly. Flower had a very distinct voice, and when she roused herself she could really be eloquent. A daring little adventure which she and her brother had experienced lost nothing in the telling, and when Polly, Firefly, and Maggie, joined the group, they found themselves taken very little notice of, for all the other children, even Helen, were hanging on Flower's words. "Oh, I say, that isn't fair!" exclaimed Polly, whose spirits were excellent. "You're telling a story, Flower, and Firefly and I have missed it. Maggie loves stories, too; don't you, Mag? Do begin again, please, Flower, please do!" Flower did not even pretend to hear Polly's words--she walked straight on, gesticulating a little now and then, now and then raising her hand in a slightly dramatic manner. Her clear voice floated back to Polly as she walked forward, the center of an eager, worshipping, entranced audience. Polly's own temper was rather hasty, she felt her face flushing, angry words were bubbling to her lips, and she would have flown after the little party who were so utterly ignoring her, if David had not suddenly slipped back and put his hand on her arm.