The mother sat by the little girl until she went to sleep, and this time her slumber was untroubled by dreams of geranium seas with fairy boats on them.

Next morning, Marjorie was greatly interested in Kitty’s story.

“Oh, Kit,” she exclaimed, “I wish I had seen you step off!  Though, of course, if I had seen you, you wouldn’t have done it!  For I should have waked you up.  Well, it’s a wonder you didn’t smash yourself.  Come on, let’s hurry down and look at that flower bed.”

But by the time the girls got down there, the hotel gardener had remade the flower bed, and it now looked as if no one had ever set foot on it.

“Pshaw!” said Marjorie, “they’ve fixed it all up, and we can’t even see where you landed.  Did it make a big hole, Kit?”

“I don’t know, Mops.  About as big as I am, I suppose.  Can’t you imagine it?”

Marjorie laughed.  “Yes, I can imagine you landing there, in your nightgown and bare feet!  How you must have looked!”

“I s’pose I did.  But, somehow, Mops, when I found myself there, it didn’t seem queer at all.  I just wanted to float on the red flowers.”

“Kit, I do believe you’re half luny,” observed King; “you have the craziest ideas.  But I’m jolly glad you didn’t get hurt, you old sleep-trotter!” and the boy pulled his sister’s curls to express his deep affection and gratitude for her safety.

Kitty was none the worse for her fall.  The soft loam of the newly made flower bed had received her gently, and not even a bruise had resulted.

But the elders decided that hereafter the exits from Kitty’s bedroom must be properly safeguarded at night, as no one could tell when the impulse of sleep-walking might overtake her.

There was plenty to do at Lakewood.  Uncle Steve took the children for a brisk walk through the town, and bought them souvenirs of all sorts.  The shops displayed tempting wares, and the girls were made happy by bead necklaces and pretty little silk bags, while King rejoiced in queer Indian relics found in a curio shop.  Then back to the hotel, for a game of tennis and a romp with Cousin Jack, and in the afternoon a long motor ride, with occasional stops for ice cream soda or peanuts.

And the next day Kitty and Uncle Steve went home.  They concluded to take the train from Lakewood, and not return again to Seacote.

“Grandma will be getting anxious to see us,” Uncle Steve declared.  “I did not intend to stay as long as this when I left home.”

“Good-bye, old Kitsie,” said Midget; “don’t walk into any more red seas, and write to me often, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will, Midge; but you don’t write very often, yourself.”

“I know it; it’s a sort of a bother to write letters.  But I love to get them.”

“Well, the summer will be over pretty soon,” returned Kitty, “and then we’ll all be back in Rockwell.”

The Maynard children were philosophical, and so they parted with cheery good-byes, and the train steamed away with Uncle Steve and Kitty waving from the window.