bronze knob and Scott flung open the door.

"Come on! Quick!" he cried; and the next moment four small pairs of feet
were flying through the hall, echoing lightly across the terrace, then
skimming the lawn to the sheltering shrubbery beyond.

"The thing to do," panted Scott, "is to keep out of sight." He seized
his guests by the arms and drew them behind the rhododendrons. "Now," he
said, "what's your name? You, I mean!"

"Duane Mallett," replied the boy, breathless. "That's my sister, Naïda.
Let's wait a moment before we begin to fight; Naïda and I had to run
like fury to get away from our nurse."

Naïda was examining Geraldine with an interest almost respectful.

"I wish they'd let _me_ dress like a boy," she said. "It's fun, isn't
it?"

"Yes. They don't _let_ me do it; I just did it," replied Geraldine.
"I'll get you a suit of Scott's clothes, if you like. I can get the
boxing-gloves at the same time. Shall I, Scott?"

"Go ahead," said Scott; "we can pretend there are four boys here." And,
to Duane, as Geraldine sped cautiously away on her errand: "That's a
thing I never did before."

"What thing?"

"Play with three boys all by myself. Kathleen--who is Mrs. Severn, our