"I suppose they're looking all over for me," she laughed mischievously, "cook and black Daniel and Uncle Peter, too. Won't he be cross! He was so cross this morning when he got a letter from Holland, a big letter with a big red seal, and he'll be crosser yet when I'm not home for dinner." She tossed her sunny curls defiantly. "But he won't dare to scold me; he'll scold everybody else and shake his cane at them, but he won't dare to be cross to me." "But I think you ought to go home," suggested Samuel. "It isn't right to worry your uncle so when he is so good to you and gives you such nice presents." She made a roguish little face. "I can't go home," she giggled, teasingly, "I've never been out alone and I lost my way almost as soon as I left the garden. So I'll just have to stay here all day until somebody from home comes and finds me." She sprang up, shaking out her silken skirts, dancing gayly in her little buckled shoes. "Come, boy," she commanded imperiously, "Come and play with me." She fumbled in the pocket of her black satin apron and drew out a tiny worsted ball. "Let's play ball," she cried, "and then we'll run races and climb that tree over there and maybe you can tell me stories when I'm tired. My old nurse in Holland used to tell me brave tales, but I don't like those black Daniel tells--all about charms and goblins. Do you know any nice stories, boy?" "Yes, a few," admitted Samuel modestly. His cheeks, usually so pale, were flushed with excitement; the little playfellow of his dreams seemed to have come to life in the flower-strewn meadow. He caught the bright ball she tossed to him and laughed with pleasure. "You catch wrongly," he chided her, "but I like to play with you." The afternoon sped on golden wings. Perhaps neither of the children would have dreamed of the lateness of the hour had not Katrina interrupted Samuel in the middle of one of his glowing tales, exclaiming, "I'm hungry, now. I wonder what cook has for supper?" Samuel started. The story of the old sea captain he had been telling his new friend was very real to him; he could almost see the old, ancient, weather-beaten vessel, hear the waves beating on the shores of that distant island where the golden treasure lay hidden for so many years. Now his dream people faded away and he saw that the sun was setting and felt the air growing chill and damp about them. He rose a little wearily and helped Katrina to her feet. "We must go home," he said, gravely. "Perhaps we did wrong to stay so long, but it was fun to play together, wasn't it? And did you like my stories?" She nodded, bending to pick up the bouquet he had gathered for her earlier in the afternoon. "I like them as well as the tales my nursie used to tell," she commented, approvingly. "You'll show me the way home, won't you?"