opened in the evening) and it had the marble balcony, with the
box-trees in urns. For, without knowing it, it was Avrillia's balcony
that Sara had seen from the stump.

"Well, there's Pirlaps," said Schlorge, lifting his shoe politely and
turning back toward the Dimplesmithy. "He'll tell you where to find
Avrillia."

Sara was left looking at a middle-aged fairy-gentleman with a little
pointed beard, who was sitting on a sort of stool or box before an
easel, hard at work. He had on white tennis-flannels, and an odd but
becoming sort of cap. Usually Sara was very shy of strangers; but this
gentleman looked so pleasant that she had almost made up her mind to
speak to him when she saw Schlorge running wildly back up the path.
"Where's a stump?" he panted. "I forgot--where's a stump?"

He spoke so loudly that the gentleman in tennis-flannels heard him and
looked around. "Oh, it's you, Schlorge," he said. "Why, there isn't
any stump here, you know--but you may use my step, if you like."

He had lovely manners, even with a plain dimplesmith like Schlorge;
and he rose as he spoke, with his palette in his hand, and made a
pleasant gesture to indicate that Schlorge was quite welcome to it.
But Schlorge looked at it doubtfully; and, indeed, Sara saw that it
was of chocolate, and rather soft where the gentleman had been sitting
on it. "I don't want to soil my soul," mumbled Schlorge, standing on
one foot and looking down at the sole of the other, very much agitated
and embarrassed.

"That's true," said the gentleman politely; "I never stand on it." At