DAISY 35

Robertson, with his hand on the railing, and
a terribly red face, was coming slowly upstairs.
dust as he reached his door, a little, white-robed
figure stole into the hall, She ran up to him,
“Oh my darlin’, darlin’ boy,”’ with a curious catch-
ing of her breath, “| fought you was lost, like de
Babes in de Wood.”

He steadied himself against the wall, only
half comprehending what she said. ‘['hen he
muttered. thickly, “Go to bed, child.”

«Vewy well,’ she murmured obediently, then
standing on tip-toe, “Kiss me good-night, We
land.”

With abashed eyes and shamed countenance,
the young man looked down at the innocent, bab
face, shining out of its tangle of curls. He was
not fit to kiss her and he knew it, He turned