The Others instantly thought it would. Miss Phyllisy shivered her shoulders when she thought it, and the Kitten shivered hers when she saw Miss Phyllisy. But Pat did not shiver, because none of them was truly chilly, only it was such a disconsolate day, with cold gray coming in at the windows and the corners dark, and large doleful brown leaves hanging sodden from a branch and beating back and forth in the rain. The Princess was sure they would feel that way about the fire, and she thought they wouldn’t mind the trouble of starting it themselves, it was so jolly to see the first blaze. And they didn’t mind in the least; they loved it. It was laid ready—large logs and small pieces to kindle it, but they were very busy for several minutes, changing the small pieces as Miss Phyllisy wanted them, because she had a talent for fires. When it was arranged to suit her, the Kitten struck the match and lighted the paper—and they all stood quite still while a flame stole around, weaving in and out, and the blackened paper drew up where it passed. A round puffing smoke rose above and sharp red tongues flipped out at the top—a fine crackle began to sound—then came a broad roar. The next minute flames were wrapping around the great logs, the whole length of them, and blazing up the chimney, and the room to the farthest corner and across the ceiling was full of moving firelight, with little fires winking from everything shiny in it—even the raindrops chasing down the panes. It was surprising, the change it made. Now, the miserable day outside only made them more cosy and contented, here by Miss Phyllisy’s beautiful fire, where their Princess sat ready to tell them a most especial story that she would love to have them hear. But, as Prudence said, it wouldn’t be wise to begin while the fire needed attention, and there was no hurry. So they watched the first blaze pass off; then the logs settled and fell apart, and they poked them and put on one more, and Pat set the fender in place. The new log sputtered a minute before the blaze began to eat it. They watched a few minutes longer, to be sure it was all right; and it was. The Princess said she never had seen a more satisfactory fire,—and likely to last. So Pat and the Kitten curled up in the pillows on the broad couch in the corner near the fireplace, and Phyllisy sat on a stool at the end of the hearth, where she could reach the poker without interrupting, if it should be necessary. The Princess was in her large chair, drawn up a little way off. The rings on her clasped hands glittered, and there was a big rosette on the toe of her slipper, pointed out toward the glow. The firelight shone in her eyes and they looked very joyful, and her lips were smiling before she began to speak.