Adelaide made no further remark, but turned and went from the kitchen into the house. All the doors were open, the weather being warm and pleasant, and Lucindy presently heard her asking Cally-Lou why she continued to disobey the only friend she had in the world. Cally-Lou must have made some excuse, or explanation, though Lucindy couldn't hear a word thereof, for Adelaide, speaking in a louder tone, gave the Chill-Child-No-Child a sound rebuke. "I don't care if you do feel that way about it," said she; "Nunky-Punky can look after me, if he feels like it, and so can Aunt Lucindy, but I'm the one to look after you. Be ashamed of yourself! a great big girl like you going around in the dark, barefooted and bareheaded. Seat yourself in that chair, and don't move out of it till I tell you, or you'll be sorry." Lucindy, listening with all her ears, lifted her arms in a gesture of admiration and astonishment, exclaiming to herself, "I des wish you'd listen! Dat sho do beat my time!" Adelaide went off to play, and it might be supposed that she had forgotten Cally-Lou; but a little before the hour was up, she went into the house again, called Cally-Lou, and, after a little, came running out again, laughing as gayly as if she had heard one of Mr. Sanders's jokes. "What de matter, honey? Whar Cally-Lou?" Lucindy inquired. "Why, she went fast asleep in the chair," cried Adelaide, laughing as though it were the funniest thing imaginable, "and no wonder she fell asleep after wandering about the house, pretending she wanted to make sure that I was snivelling under that heavy cover. How can anybody get cold such weather as this?" Lucindy shook her head. "De han' dat totch mine was col', honey--stone col'." "Oh, Cally-Lou's hand! Well, she can sit by the fire and still be cold," responded Adelaide. "Cally-Lou is mighty funny," she went on, growing confidential; "she says she is lonesome; she wants to play with growner folks than me." "Well, honey, I dunner whar she'll fin' um. Dar's Mr. Sanders; sholy he ain't too young fer 'er!" As though the mention of his name had summoned Mr. Sanders from the dim and vague region where Cally-Lou had her place of residence, those in the kitchen now heard his voice in the house. He had entered, as usual, without taking the trouble to knock, and he came down the long hall, talking and saluting imaginary persons, hoping in that way to attract the attention of Adelaide. Nor was he unsuccessful.