[Illustration: LOU.]


It chanced that Irene wore a fresh suit, one that Lou had never seen.
Delightedly she spied the dainty robe.

"Ain't that sweet!" she exclaimed, and feasted her eyes till, suddenly
looking down at Irene's gaiters, she caught a glimpse of a curious
field-bug trotting along on the ground. My little lady forgot the
ruffles, forgot everything but her desire for a closer view.

"O, see--see!" she cried excitedly, half-running, half-crawling after
the bug, "see this funny thing! I can't catch him! But, O my--ain't he
cunnin'! Irene, do get down here and see!"

Irene took a step forward, then stood still.

"I can't," she said, "I might soil my dress."

But Lou scarcely heard. She was absorbed in the funny bug. On she went
trying to catch him, till finally he slipped round a tree-root and was
seen no more.

Back came Lou to Irene brushing the dirt from her frock.

"It's cold standin' here," she said, "let's play tag."

"I can't," spoke Irene again, "I might trip and soil my dress."

Lou's eyes went up and down the dainty robe. "It isn't much of a