"Jim and I have been dodging Aunt Kezia all the morning. He’s very exciting. Of course because I was with him in the garden she chose to want me for some deep purpose of her own. Molly told her I wasn’t in. She said she wouldn’t say I was out, because it didn’t seem truthful. Then she waved the red flag from the Stronghold window, so I knew I was to lie low. I sat down on the path behind the dust-bin. I don’t like dust-bins, and Jim does, which makes it awkward. He persisted in stretching out and picking out horrible bits of dirty paper and cardboard and tin. Then Aunt Kezia, out of pure, native cussedness, decides to come into the garden to mend that bit of broken lattice. I heard her saying so to Sarah in the kitchen doorway, and I simply fled over the wall. Denis, now I ask you, why couldn’t the dust-bin be against Mrs. Barclay’s wall? I daren’t cross the garden, so I had to take refuge in the garden of the enemies of our aunt! And there Jim and I crouched behind an inadequate laurel bush. At intervals I’d look up, but always I could see the red handkerchief dangling from the window. Sometimes I could see Aunt Kezia’s head, too! I was frozen so stiff I couldn’t move. And Jim ate two buttons off my blouse. And that awful old Mrs. Ponsonby next door kept appearing at one of the windows. Hair by hair I felt my head going grey. But Jim must be exercised. That’s four times in two days Aunt Kezia has almost caught him!" "I’ll mend the catch of his cage this very moment. We’re going to St. James Park this afternoon, you know, and we’ll make sure he’s safe." Sheila Pat suggested, "I think Tommy would like to come, too." "We’ll ask him." That afternoon Sheila Pat was ready first. "Nell, may I go and ask Tommy?" "All right, only don’t dawdle." Sheila Pat trotted off. Mrs. Barclay hesitated; she looked worried. "Please may he come?" Sheila Pat repeated. "I should like him to go, dear, but—but—" Suddenly she bent down and kissed the serious little face passionately. "Be good to him, Sheila Pat! He isn’t strong—he has a good deal to bear. Sometimes he gets into a bad temper, because he can’t be quite like other boys. To-day he won’t speak. He hasn’t spoken since breakfast." "Please may I go up to him?" "Yes, dear. He is in the schoolroom." She turned and walked staidly out into the hall, and opened the schoolroom door. Stewart was huddled up in the window doing nothing. "Good mornin’," she said. He took no notice. She tiptoed across the room, an oddly worried look on her small face. "Tommy, will you come to see the horse guards with us?" she almost whispered. He stared out of the window. "Denis is comin’, too. And we’re goin’ on an omnibus, and you and me will get front seats, and—and it’s very windy," the soft little voice went patiently on, enumerating all the delights of the expedition. "Do come, Tommy, won’t you?" He drummed on the window pane with thin little fingers.