Harry laughed, and then, having delivered his message, he ran down the driveway, and up the avenue to call for his chum, Rob.

He nodded to Inez as he passed her, whistling gaily as he hurried along.

“Girls are queer,” he said, pausing in his whistling solo, to speak his thoughts.

“Even nice girls are queer sometimes,” he murmured.  “Of course Princess Polly is always pleasant, and my sister Leslie isn’t even odd, but Inez is freaky, and Vivian, well,—­she’s something like Inez.”

In the garden the three little girls stood where Harry had left them.

“What shall we do?” said Leslie.  “We came to play with you, Polly, what ought we to do?”

Polly’s eyes had looked troubled, but now she smiled.

“Oh, go, please, and see Inez.  Perhaps she truly wishes she’d been pleasant.  You can come any time to play with me, but it’s now that Inez feels good.”

Polly’s words were wise.  She knew Inez to be hasty, and she thought that if, for the moment, she was sorry for her rudeness, she should have the chance to say so, before she could change her mind.

Leslie would not say so, but in truth, she did not care what Inez had to say.

Vivian was curious, and eager to know why Inez had waited so long to see them.

Inez stood at the gateway waiting for her two playmates.

Leslie said something about having to hurry home, but Vivian pausing beside Inez, waited for her to speak.

It was not pleasant to stand talking on the sunny sidewalk, and turning, they walked a little way up the driveway.

Polly questioned if Inez really might be sorry for her hasty words.  Nothing could have tempted her to listen, nor was she near enough to have heard a word that they were saying, but from where she was standing, she could see Inez and Vivian.  She wondered why Leslie had not remained.  The shrubbery hid her, but she could see them plainly.

She saw Inez lay her hand upon Vivian’s arm.

“Oh, I wish they’d make up,” whispered Princess Polly.

Then something soft rubbed against her ankles.

“Oh, darling Sir Mortimer!” she whispered, “they are almost making up!”

She peeped again, daintily holding back her skirts.

“They’re not smiling yet,” she said softly.

“I guess we won’t wait,” she whispered, as she stooped to take the big cat in her arms.

“Keep still, Mortimer,” she said, “I’m going to whisper right in your ear.  I like them all, but I love Rose.”

Sir Mortimer rubbed his soft head against Polly’s pink cheek.

“That means that you do, too,” said Polly.

CHAPTER II

A LITTLE HERO

“Tell us a story,” said Lena Lindsey, and her brother echoed her words.  “Oh, Rob, what shall I tell?  Lena wants a fairy tale, and you wouldn’t like that; boys never do,” said Polly.