blue--lighter stockings and shoes--I mean not black.  She had no hat on, and a heavy tail of plaited hair hanging down.  As she ran I saw it swing--like yours does.  Now, are you surprised we thought it was you?"
"What did you do?" asked Pamela.
"Simply stared.  Then Addie gave a whistle shriek, fearfully loud.  She stopped and looked over her shoulder, then she ran on.  Honestly I admit we were savage.  Just consider, Pam; it appeared to be you beyond question, and we naturally concluded you were just out for the fun of it, and didn’t want us to see you.  Of course it looked as though you didn’t mean to stop on purpose."
"Funny," allowed Pamela in a milder tone, "well, what did you do next? I suppose you saw where this very surprising girl went to?"
Christobel felt this was the weak part of her story, but she told it conscientiously.
"I see.  So the girl was swallowed up by the cloud! Are you sure you ever saw her at all, Crow?"
"Never was so sure of a thing in my life," declared Christobel, slipping off the table edge, and going to the window-seat, where she took a more comfortable seat, "we saw the girl.  Who she is, I don’t pretend to say, as you say she is not you.  It was just in that bit of road outside Woodrising that we lost sight of her.  Thinking she was surely you I made Addie go into Fuchsia Cottage and ask Miss Lasarge."
"Why--on earth?" demanded Pamela, with a little frown of annoyance, as she shut her book smartly.
"Why?  Because I thought you’d gone in there.  It was the only way to account for your disappearance."
"For _hers_, you mean."
"Yes; of course.  Only, remember we were certain it was you then."
"What did the Little Pilgrim say?" asked Pamela, with an accession of interest, as she pulled herself up in the chair, swinging her slim feet rather restlessly.
"Oh, nothing much.  She just listened, and said you weren’t there, and you hadn’t been, and she was sure it couldn’t be you--that was all.  We thought she seemed rather nervous--rather sort of hesitating--but it might have been our fancy.  You see, Pam, I was so sure it couldn’t be anyone but you, that I had a feeling the Little Pilgrim thought it was, but meant to hold her tongue.  She’s such a little angel of kindness she’d always shield anybody she thought might be risking a fuss."
"I daresay," allowed Pamela in a non-committal way; then she added, "well, are you satisfied now, Crow?  I can only tell you again that I was in bed--at that time."
"My dear old girl, if you say you were not the person we saw, there’s an end," answered Christobel warmly, yet even as she spoke she was faintly uneasy--Pamela was keeping something back.  She was sure.  However, there was no more to be said.  She changed the subject.
"Addie’s bathing," she said, "he loves bathing in the rain, and at 

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