“Oh, Ellen, I can’t tell you.  I can never tell you!” wailed the child.

“Well, move over, dearie.  I’ll push Vera along and there’ll be room for us all.  There, darling, come in Ellen’s arms and forget all about it.”

Gladys cuddled close, and after a few more catches in her breath, she slept soundly.

When she wakened, the sunlight was streaming through the plain room, gilding everything as it had done in her rose and white bower yesterday at home.  Ellen was moving about, all dressed.  Gladys turned over and looked at Vera, pretty and innocent, her eyes closed and her lips parted over little white teeth.  The child came close to the doll.  The wonderful dream returned vividly.

“Your name is Vera.  You had to,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.

“How is the baby prince?” she asked, after a minute, jumping out of bed.

“He’s lively, but I expect he’s as hungry as you are.  What’s he going to have?”

“Meat,” replied Gladys, looking admiringly at the pretty little creature.

“I brought in my wash-bowl for your bath.  I suppose princes can’t be disturbed,” said Ellen.

While she buttoned Gladys’s clothes, the little girl looked at the silver bowl, and the chairs where she and Vera had sat last night in her dream.  She even glanced about to see some sign of watch and bird, but could not find them.  How busily her thoughts were working!

Sensible Ellen said nothing of bad dreams; and by the time Gladys went downstairs, her face looked interested and happy.  After all, it wasn’t as though there wasn’t any God to help a person, and she had said a very fervent prayer, with her nose buried in Vera’s golden curls, before she jumped out of bed.

She had the satin shell of the baby prince in her hand.  He had drawn into it because he was very uncertain what was going to happen to him; but Gladys knew.

She said good-morning to her cousins so brightly that Faith was pleased; but pretty as she looked, smiling, Ernest saw the prince in her hand and was more offended with her than ever.

“I want to thank you, Faith,” she said, “for letting the baby stay in my room all night.  I had the most fun watching him while I was dressing.”

She put the little turtle into her cousin’s hand.

“Oh, but I gave him to you,” replied Faith earnestly.

“After you hunted for him for two summers, I couldn’t be so mean as to take him.  I’m just delighted you found him, Faith,” and Gladys had a very happy moment then, for she found she was happy.  “Let’s give him some bits of meat.”

“She’s all right,” thought Ernest, with a swift revulsion of feeling, and he was as embarrassed as he was astonished when his cousin turned suddenly to him:—­

“If you’ll take me in the boat again,” she said, “I won’t rock.  I’m sorry I did.”

“It is a fool trick,” blurted out Ernest, “but you’re all right, Gladys.  I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”