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"But I sat in the tree so often in my nighty, and Kitty-dear built steps so I could go up and down " He paused, and bravely brushed away another big tear, with a motion that indicated dislike for feeble symbols. "Well hurry," said Cleo, seizing the chance of escape. "Good-bye little Royal-Boy-Blue-Peter Pan," she said merrily. "And good-bye, Kitty.
"Hannah wants lots of things done when she comes, but sometimes she gives Kitty-dear money, then we have cookies, but we never dare tell Hannah, 'cause I'm not allowed cookies," he said with a cute twist of his yellow head. "But you are the fairies who took my letters, aren't you? I knew when they were gone from their letter boxes on the birch trees, that I would surely get an answer!
"Only Daddy!" begged the golden-haired boy, who clung to his mother, "please don't let her come around here. She's too mean to Kitty and me, and we don't ever want to see her again, do we Kitty-dear?" "All ashore, who are going ashore!" called out Neal, and at that the happy party climbed back into the Runner, the auxiliary launch of the yacht, Royal, and in a few minutes were again at Sea Crest.
Cleo was peering through the trees, but could see no sign of anything like a dwelling. "Oh, I haven't any house; I must live outdoors. Dr. Grant ordered it, and I must roll in the mud. But I get tired rolling, and there isn't any real mud here, except what Kitty-dear fetches in the boat. Then we make mud pies, and that's fun. But you are going to take me for a boat ride now, aren't you?
Her boat is Royal too," he said proudly. "And who takes care of you?" pressed Grace, keeping in mind the prospect of almost any interruptions spoiling this valued confidence. "Kitty-dear does. There is Hannah, of course, but I don't like her, and I do like Kitty-dear," he said, with a brave echo in his childish voice. "And where do you live? Where is your house?"
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