way home. "How can papas not love their little girls?"

"'Cause he's stubbo'n," was the unsatisfactory answer. "All the Lloyds
is. Yo' mamma's stubbo'n, an' you's stubbo'n--"

"I'm not!" shrieked the Little Colonel, stamping her foot. "You sha'n't
call me names!"

Then she saw a familiar white hand waving to her from the hammock, and
she broke away from Mom Beck with very red cheeks and very bright eyes.

Cuddled close in her mother's arms, she had a queer feeling that she had
grown a great deal older in that short afternoon.

Maybe she had. For the first time in her little life she kept her
troubles to herself, and did not once mention the thought that was
uppermost in her mind.

"Yo' great-aunt Sally Tylah is comin' this mawnin'," said Mom Beck, the
day after their visit to the hotel. "Do fo' goodness' sake keep yo'self
clean. I'se got too many spring chickens to dress to think 'bout
dressin' you up again."

"Did I evah see her befo'?" questioned the Little Colonel.

"Why, yes, the day we moved heah. Don't you know she came and stayed so
long, and the rockah broke off the little white rockin'-chair when she
sat down in it?"

"Oh, now I know!" laughed the child. "She's the big fat one with curls