“I am coming,” cried the girl, hurrying into the room and up to the couch. “Did you have a nice little nap?” she asked cheerily, as she patted the girl’s hand that lay inertly on the coverlid.
“Oh, I just dropped off, I always get so tired when I cry.”
“But why do you cry then?” questioned practical Nathalie.
“Why—oh, I cried because Mamma took you away from me, and now you will be going soon, and I won’t have had time to talk to you at all.”
“Oh, yes you will,” replied her companion, glancing at the clock. “It is only eleven, I sha’n’t go for another hour, so start right in and talk.”
“But I don’t want to talk,” came the contrary answer. “I want to hear you talk. Please tell me about the Girl Pioneers. Did you go on the wild-flower hike?”
“Oh, yes!” was the answer; and then Nathalie’s tongue flew as she told about the hike, the different things they did, how she had learned to blaze a trail, what a delightful companion Dr. Homer had proved, how she lighted the fire with only one match, about the Tike’s escapade, and the flower legends.
“Oh, but the fire, I must tell you about the fire and the bucket brigade!” she cried, and then followed that exciting story with all its climaxes, and what fun it had proved, although, as the girl confessed, she had been tempted to run away several times.
“I just wish I could have seen it all!” exclaimed Nita regretfully, as Nathalie paused for a rest. “I should have liked to go on that flower hike, and the flower legends, can’t you tell them to me? I just love flowers!”
“Why yes, perhaps I can,” nodded the Story Lady. And then in a moment she was animatedly telling about the Forget-me-not lover, the Dandelion legend, and then last of all about the spring goddess who brought the arbutus.