pathos of the story had touched her.

Reginald was but a few months older than Flossie, but he was not
sensitive, and only the adventure, the beauty described appealed to
him. He looked at Flossie in surprise when she had finished reading her
little sketch, and wondered that she could see anything pathetic in the
tale.

Then he rose to read his own effort at story-telling.

"They tramped and tramped for miles through the trees and swamps, and
I'd like to have worn a red velvet coat and hunt for that fountane, for
if we hadn't found it we'd have had a jolly hunt. I'd like to have worn
a red velvet coat and a big hat with fethers on it, and a pare of boots
with big tops to them. We could have tramped better with those big boots
and all those fine things on."

A droll idea, truly. No wonder that the girls laughed at the vanity
which Reginald had so innocently betrayed. "Where did you get your
description of his costume?" Aunt Charlotte asked. She could not help
smiling.

"From a painting in my uncle's hall," said Reginald, promptly, "and when
I told him that I wished that men wore clothes like that now, he just
laughed, and said he thought those huge, long-plumed hats would be an
awful nuisance."

The older girls were soon to study English history, and they felt very
important indeed.