"She'll be over it in just a moment.

These little spells never last long." Mrs.Sherman was right.

In a few moments Lloyd came up the walk, singing.
"I wish you'd tell me a pink story," she said, coaxingly, as she leaned against her mother's knee.
"Not now, dear; don't you see that I am busy talking to Aunt Sally?
Run and ask Mom Beck for one." "What on earth does she mean by a pink story ?" asked Mrs.Tyler.
"Oh, she is so fond of colours.

She is always asking for a pink or a blue or a white story.

She wants everything in the story tinged with whatever colour she chooses,--dresses, parasols, flowers, sky, even the icing on the cakes and the paper on the walls." "What an odd little thing she is!" exclaimed Mrs.Tyler.