“’Cause I spect we’ve got there.  But, Hollis,” said she, with the comical shade of care which so often flitted across her little face, “you never put the trunk in here.  Now that ’ductor has gone and carried off my nightie.”

CHAPTER III.

THE FROLIC.

If Aunt Madge had dressed in linsey woolsey, with a checked apron on, she would still have been lovely.  A white rose is lovely even in a cracked tea-cup.  But Colonel Augustus Allen was a rich man, and his wife could afford to dress elegantly.  Horace followed her to-night with admiring eyes.

“They say she isn’t as handsome as Aunt Louise, but I know better; you needn’t tell me!  Her eyes have got the real good twinkle, and that’s enough said.”

Horace was like most boys; he mistook loveliness for beauty.  Mrs. Allen’s small figure, gentle gray eyes, and fair curls made her seem almost insignificant beside the splendid Louise; but Horace knew better; you needn’t tell him!

“Horace,” said Aunt Madge, “your Uncle Augustus is gone, and that is one reason, you know, why I begged for company during the holidays.  You will be the only gentleman in the house, and we ladies herewith put ourselves under your protection.  Will you accept the charge?”

“He needn’t pertect ME,” spoke up Miss Dimple, from the depths of an easy-chair; “I can pertect myself.”

“Don’t mind going to the Museum alone, I suppose, and crossing ferries, and riding in the Park, and being out after dark?”

“No; I’m not afraid of things,” replied the strong-minded young lady; “ask Prudy if I am.  And my father lets me go in the horse-cars all over Portland.  That’s since I travelled out west.”

Here the bell sounded, and the only gentleman of the house gave his arm to Mrs. Allen, to lead her out to what he supposed was supper, though he soon found it went by the name of dinner.  Neither he nor his young cousins were accustomed to seeing so much silver and so many servants; but they tried to appear as unconcerned as if it were an every-day affair.  Dotty afterwards said to Prudy and Horace, “I was ’stonished when that man came to the back of my chair with the butter; but I said, ‘If you please, sir,’ just as if I ’spected it. He don’t know but my father’s rich.”

After dinner Fly’s eyes drew together, and Prudy said,—­

“O, darling, you don’t know what’s going to happen.  Auntie said you might sleep with Dotty and me to-night, right in the middle.”

“O, dear!” drawled Flyaway; “when there’s two abed, I sleep; but when there’s three abed, I open out my eyes, and can’t.”

“So you don’t like to sleep with your cousins,” said Dotty, “your dear cousins, that came all the way from Portland to see you.”

“Yes, I do,” said Fly, quickly; “my eyes’ll open out; but that’s no matter, ’cause I don’t want to go to sleep; I’d ravver not.”