April closed her story. She took her moments from the can, poured the dandelions into Thekla's lap, and rose to go.

"I am late," she said: "all my violets must be made before midnight. I have none but these few in my hair."

"Not yet,—stay a little longer!" pleaded the children.

"Ah, no!" said April: "I must go. You won't miss me long: May is coming, my sister May. Everybody loves her better than they do me," and she wiped her eyes dolefully as she shut the door.

"What a goose I am!" she cried, flinging it open again, with a merry laugh. "Don't mind my nonsense. Good-by, dears, good-by!"

Oh, how cheerful the kitchen seemed now! Where were the colds and the disconsolate looks? All gone; and Max and Thekla laughed gayly into each other's faces.