“Gladys isn’t used to so much running around,” said Ellen pleasantly to the other children.  “I guess she’s a pretty sleepy girl and will get into bed early.”

So when Ellen had helped aunt Martha with the supper dishes, Gladys went upstairs with her, to go to bed.

She was half undressed when some one knocked softly, and Faith came into the room.  The silver bowl stood on a table near the door, and the little girl paused to look at it and examine the wreath of roses around its edge.  “I never saw one so handsome,” she said.  Then she came forward.  “I thought perhaps you’d let me see you undress Vera,” she added.

“She is undressed,” answered Gladys shortly.

“Oh, yes!” Faith went up to the bed where the doll lay in its nightdress.  “May I make her speak once?”

“No, I’m afraid you might hurt her,” returned Gladys shortly, and Ellen gave her a reproachful look.  Gladys didn’t care!  How could a girl expect to be so selfish as Faith, and then have everybody let her do just what she wanted to?

Faith drew back from the bed.  “I wish you’d let me see you wish once on your bowl before I go away,” she said.

“How silly,” returned Gladys.  “Do you suppose I believe in such things?  You can wish on it yourself, if you like.”

“Oh, that wouldn’t be any use,” returned Faith eagerly, “because it only works for the one it belongs to.”

“Perhaps you wouldn’t like to have me make a wish and get it,” said Gladys, thinking of the baby prince’s lovely polished tints and bewitching little tail.

“Yes, I would.  I’d love to.  Do, Gladys, do, and see what happens.”

Gladys curved her lips scornfully, but the strong wish sprang in her thought, and with a careless movement she pulled off the silver cover.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes grew as big as possible; for she had wished for the prince, and there he was, creeping about in the bowl and lifting his little head in wonder at his surroundings.

“Why, Faith!” was all she could say.  “Where did it come from?”

“The brook, of course,” returned Faith, clapping her hands in delight at her cousin’s amazement.  “Take him out and let’s see whether he’s red or plain ivory underneath.”

“Will he scrabble?” asked Gladys doubtfully.

“No-o,” laughed Faith.

So the little city girl took up the turtle and lo, he was as beautiful a red as the one of the afternoon.

“Isn’t he lovely!” she exclaimed, not quite liking to look her cousin in the eyes.  “Where shall I put him for to-night?”

“We’ll put a little water in your wash-bowl, not much, for they are so smart about climbing out.”

Ellen, also, was gazing at the royal infant.  “He is a pretty little thing,” she said, “but for pity’s sake, Faith, fix it so he won’t get on to my bare feet!”

Later, when they were alone and Ellen kissed Gladys good-night, she looked closely into her eyes “Now you’re happier, I suppose,” she said.