said sympathetically. "Come on up to the house and take them off. Lucy
will lend you another pair."

But Ann sprang up, fiercely forbidding her to mention it to any one, and
dashed into the games with a Spartan disregard of her pain. It was the
only way to keep from crying, and she played recklessly on at
"prisoner's base," not stopping even when a pointed stick snagged one
shoe and a sharp rock cut the other.

It was nearly dark when they went up to the house. Bud Bailey swung his
baskets over the fence and turned to help the girls, but after his
unfortunate speech to Ann, she scorned his gallantries. Scrambling to
the top rail by herself at a little distance from his proffered hand,
she poised an instant, and then sprang lightly down. Unfortunately, she
had not looked before she leaped. Bud's basket was in the way, and both
feet sank into a great pulpy mass of wild grapes, that instantly
squirted their streams of purple juice all over her light shoes. They
were splotched and dyed so deeply that no amount of rubbing could ever
wipe away the ugly stains. They were hopelessly ruined.

Alas for the Princess Emeralda, who that night might have learned her
fate in the charm mirror! It was a Hallowe'en she could never forget,
since its unhappiness was both burned and dyed into her memory. She sat
through the tea, her feet like hot coals, too miserable to enjoy
anything. Afterwards, when Jennie's guests began to arrive, she shrank
into a corner, with her dress pulled down far as possible.

It seemed weeks before the carryall was driven up to the door, but at
last she was jolting along the frozen road beside Lottie on the way
home. Out in the starlight, within the protecting privacy of her