Phyllis | Page 3

my face, and I thought perhaps it was an ordinary leaf but of course it couldn't have been."
"It were my brownie,"--the blue eyes wrinkled up at the end of an impish grin. "Did it kick hard?"
"I should say it did. Look,"--Phyllis took her hand away from her eye. It was quite red, for a bit of dust had inflamed it.
The small boy gazed at it thoughtfully.
"He hadn't ought to have hurted you," he said solemnly. "He were a bad brownie, I guess--so I'll go back to Nannie now."
"Where is Nannie?" Phyllis inquired, looking in vain for a nurse. The park, as far as she could see, was deserted.
"It doesn't matter," he said quite calmly. "I just remembered I'm losted." He took Phyllis's outstretched hand and trotted along beside her.
"Losted?" she inquired in astonishment.
"Yes, for quite a while, you see, Nannie talks and talks, and to-day she were talking when the brownie came, and so I ran away. Nannie doesn't know about brownies; just angels and devils."
Phyllis, in spite of herself, laughed. "But if Nannie has lost you, won't she be worried?" she asked.
The small head nodded. "But she'll find me again," he assured her. "She always does."
"What's your name?" he demanded after a minute of silence.
"Phyllis Page."
"Is that all?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I have ever so many more names than that."
"What are they?"
"Donald Francis MacFarlan Keith," he recited glibly; "but mostly I'm called Don."
"That's a very nice name," Phyllis agreed absently. She was still looking for the lost Nannie.
"And I live," Don continued proudly, "at number theventeen East Theventy-theventh Street." The s's were almost too much for him but he struggled manfully.
"Why, that's very near where I live!" Phyllis exclaimed, relief in her voice. "I'll take you home, if we don't find Nannie."
Don decided that that might be a good idea when, after a short hunt, the missing Nannie was not discovered.
He talked every step of the way home, about brownies, policemen, dogs and fire engines, and Phyllis joined in the discussion whole heartedly and agreed with him that a mounted policeman was indeed superior to a banker on Wall Street.
"For," Don explained, "that's what Nannie says my Daddy is, but I think policemen is nicer."
When they reached the house that Don pointed out as his, they hurried up the steps, but before Phyllis could press the button the door opened and a boy about her own age stood on the threshold.
"I beg your pardon--" Phyllis began, but Don interrupted.
"Hello, Chuck," he said seriously. "This girl bringed me home because I got losted. She's only got two names but she's very nice; she knows all about brownies--"
"Don!"--the elder boy spoke so sharply that Phyllis was startled.
"Thank you very much," he continued, looking at her. "My small cousin is always getting lost, I hope he hasn't bothered you."
"Not a bit," Phyllis laughed. "We've had a fine time. I'm sorry if you have been worried."
"Oh, I haven't," the boy replied, "but I think his nurse has the whole police force out looking for him. I knew he'd show up."
"Good-by, Don." Phyllis held out her hand, and Don put his little one in it.
"Don't get lost again, will you!"
"It depends," Don replied gravely. "I can't promise. Anyway I'll look for you every time I go to the park, and I'll ask the brownies about you, 'cause I like you, oh, heaps better than Chuck. He doesn't know anything about brownies."
Phyllis looked at the boy still standing in the doorway. He was blushing.
"How silly of him," she said to Don. "We do anyway, don't we?"
"'Course," Don replied, and he insisted in spite of his cousin's threats to watch and wave until Phyllis was out of sight.
Phyllis, hidden by the corner, paused to laugh.
"That wasn't a very polite thing to say," she admitted. "I wonder what made me think of it. He looked quite nice too. I wonder who he is?"
Don for the moment was forgotten.
As Phyllis hurried home, many were the thoughts that kept her company, for the brisk wind had blown all her doubts away and only the joy of Janet's arrival remained.
People passing her saw a slender girl of thirteen with a delicate oval face and well-shaped features framed in a wealth of gold brown hair. Her eyes were soft and limpid, and they held an expression of dreaminess in their depths.
This afternoon, however, they sparkled and seemed to challenge the whole world to find a happier mortal.
She walked along, her step light as a fairy's, her skirts still blowing at the whim of the breezes.
"I think I will stop and see some of the girls," she said to herself, but she changed her mind the next minute and went home instead. It was like Phyllis to make up her mind one minute and change it the next.
She found the house deserted on her return,