“Oh, botheration, Beth; I can’t get the horrid thing right, and I’m not going to try.”

“Let me help you, Julia.  Maybe we’ll get prizes.”

“Oh, bother prizes.  Let’s quit.”

“No, I’m going to finish this dress.  Please stay and sew with me.”

“If I do, what will you do for me?”

“Anything you want me to.”

“All right then, I’ll stay, but when you’ve finished, you have to go up in a tree with me and spend the night.  We’ll be like the captive princess.”

They had just finished a fairy tale of a princess confined in a tower which she never left during many years.  The tower was well provisioned so that she did not starve.

“It’ll be great fun,” continued Julia.  “We’ll take plenty of food up with us.  I’m so glad you promised to go.”

“May I tell mamma about it?”

“No.”

“Then I won’t go.  I know mamma wouldn’t like it, Julia, and it’s wrong to worry her.”

“And it’s downright wicked to break one’s word.  You aren’t going to be wicked, are you?”

Beth looked worried.  “Please don’t ask me to play princess, Julia.”

“But you just have to, Beth; that’s all there is about it.”

This was Julia’s ultimatum.  She persisted in remaining with Beth until the dress was finished, although, she, herself, did comparatively little sewing.  She even stayed nights at the Davenports for fear Beth would betray her secret.

Beth worked so steadily that Mrs. Davenport feared that she would make herself sick, and was glad when finally Beth jumped up and said: 

“There, mamma, it’s finished.  Buttonholes and all.  I guess it’s all right, isn’t it?”

The dress was very creditably made for so young a girl.  Mrs. Davenport was justly proud of it and of Beth.

“Mrs. Davenport,” began Julia, “can’t Beth stay all night with me?”

“Yes, I’ll be glad to have her out of doors.  Run along, Beth.”

Beth, however, held back.  “I’d rather stay with you, mamma.”

“Why, child, what is the matter?”

“Oh, she’s just tired from this everlasting sewing, Mrs. Davenport;” and then Julia whispered to Beth, “You’re not going to be wicked and break your word, are you?  I’ll never speak to you again if you don’t come.”

Thus pressed, Beth reluctantly kissed her mother and departed.

“We’ll go over to my house, and get enough food for supper and breakfast.”

Away they hurried to the Gordons.  Julia robbed the larder to quite an extent.

“Mamma, I’m going back to Beth’s.  You don’t mind, do you?”

“No.”

Thereupon, avoiding observation, they ran back to Beth’s.  They selected a grand water oak with immense spreading branches that would effectually screen them from view.  Besides, it was quite a ways from the house, which suited Julia’s purpose.

Julia, carrying the provisions, scrambled up into the tree as nimbly as a squirrel, crying: