Patsy himself was dirtier than ever, and much more sullen and gloomy.
The traces of tears on his cheeks made my heart leap into my throat.
"Oh, Patsy," I exclaimed, "I am so glad to find you! We expected you all
day, and were afraid you weren't well."

Not a word of response.

"We have a chair all ready for you; it is standing right under one of
the plant-shelves, and there are three roses in bloom to-day!"

Still not a word.

"And I had to tell the dog story without you!"

The effect of this simple statement was very different from what I had
anticipated. I thought I knew what a child was likely to do under every
conceivable set of circumstances, but Patsy was destined to be more than
once a revelation to me.

He dashed a book of colored advertisements that he held into the
farthest corner of the room, threw himself on the floor at full length
and beat it with his hands, while he burst into a passion of tears.
"There! there!" he cried between his sobs, "I told 'em you'd tell it! I
told 'em you'd tell it! I told 'em you'd--but oh, I thought maybe you
wouldn't!" His wails brought Mrs. Kennett from a back piazza where she
was washing.

"Are you the teacher o' the _Kids Guards_, 'm?"

"Yes." It did not strike me at the time, in my anxiety, what a