"What is it, dear ?" With big tears of indignation rising in her eyes, Zo pointed to Ovid.

"I say!" she whispered, "is he going to buy the Piping Crow for you ?" To Zo's discomfiture they both smiled.

She dried her eyes with her fists, and waited doggedly for an answer.

Carmina set the child's mind at ease very prettily and kindly; and Ovid added the pacifying influence of a familiar pat on her cheek.

Noticed at last, and satisfied that the bird was not to be bought for anybody, Zo's sense of injury was appeased; her jealousy melted away as the next result.