"Then, my dear, I hope you will see them. But really, Bessie, I can't run round nature as you do--your intellect is quite overpowering; one moment you want to get up information with regard to magnetic iron ore, and the next you confound me with some awful observation about asteroids. Good-by, Bessie; good-by. I shall be late for dinner, and then no chance of going to the fair Gwin's this afternoon." "Well, if you do go, call for me," shouted Bessie after her; "I'll wait for you until half-past four, then I'll start off by myself." "Yes, yes, I'll come if I can, and bring Kitty also if I can." "Be sure you don't fail. I'll look out for you." Alice put wings to her feet and set off running down the dusty road, and Bessie more soberly returned home. CHAPTER II. THE BLARNEY STONE. Alice's home was nearly half a mile from the school. It was a big, commonplace suburban house standing at a corner. It had a small garden in front and a larger one at the back; but neither at front nor back were the gardens tidily kept. They were downtrodden by the constant pressure of many feet, and were further ornamented at intervals by sheds and kennels, for Fred and Philip Denvers were devoted to all sorts of pets; there was also a rabbit-run at one end, and a little railed-off place where Mrs. Denvers tried to keep fowls. Alice at intervals had sighed for a tennis lawn; but whenever she dared to mention the idea she was hooted by her big brothers, who did not want the garden to be made in the least bit, as they expressed it, ornamental. "But tennis isn't ornamental!" said Alice. "Beastly game," remarked Fred. "Only meant for girls; just to give them an opportunity of hobnobbing together, and talking gossip, and making up mischief." "You talk in the most ridiculous, unfair way," said Alice in indignation; but she did not dare to mention the subject of the tennis court again, and the boys still continued to build fresh sheds and introduce new animals. On this occasion, as Alice walked up to the house, she was met by Fred, who ran out to meet her in some excitement. "I say, Alice," he cried, "she's come, and she is a rum 'un!" "Who has come?" asked Alice; "not--not Kitty Malone?" "No one else, at your service, Kitty Malone, ohone!" cried Fred. "And oh! isn't she Irish! You come along and see her. I never saw anything like her before." "Why, Fred, I didn't think you cared for girls."