But that evening, after the younger children were gone to bed, and Katy
and Clover were sitting in the Blue-room, a lamentable howling was heard
from the nursery. Clover ran to see what was the matter. Behold--there
was Phil, sitting up in bed, and crying for help.

"There's robbers under the bed," he sobbed; "ever so many robbers."

"Why no, Philly!" said Clover, peeping under the valance to satisfy him;
"there isn't anybody there."

"Yes, there is, I tell you," declared Phil, holding her tight. "I heard
one. They were _chewing my india-rubbers_."

"Poor little fellow!" said Cousin Helen, when Clover, having pacified
Phil, came back to report. "It's a warning against robber stories. But
this one ended so well, that I didn't think of anybody's being
frightened."

It was no use, after this, for Aunt Izzie to make rules about going into
the Blue-room. She might as well have ordered flies to keep away from a
sugar-bowl. By hook or by crook, the children _would_ get up stairs.
Whenever Aunt Izzie went in, she was sure to find them there, just as
close to Cousin Helen as they could get. And Cousin Helen begged her not
to interfere.

"We have only three or four days to be together," she said. "Let them
come as much as they like. It won't hurt me a bit."

Little Elsie clung with a passionate love to this new friend. Cousin
Helen had sharp eyes. She saw the wistful look in Elsie's face at once,