England, and after that I felt much better."

"Why didn't you stay," asked Keith.

"Because then there would have been no little Keith," she explained, her
face lighting up with the kind of grown-up smile that always provoked
and perplexed the boy.

"Are there no boys in England," he persisted.

"Yes, plenty of them, and fine ones at that. But I wanted no one but
you, and you were here, and so I had to come back to get you."

"Here," he repeated. "Where here?"

"In Sweden, of course," his mother rejoined, and then she started
hurriedly to describe the wonders of London shopping.

"But why did you go at all," he interrupted after listening a while to
what seemed less interesting to him than certain other points. "I might
have been lost while you were away."

"You might," she assented, "but I had to take the risk because I had to
get a name for you and I could never have found the one you have
in Sweden."

"Why not?"

"Because it is English. And it should be pronounced _Keeth_ instead of
_Kite_ as they say here. I found it in a book over there, and I fell in