“Good for you, Dimple!” said Horace, in a low tone; “that’s one way of letting people know you’ve got money.  Look behind you!  There’s been a man following you for some time.”

“Where?  O, where?” cried Dotty, whirling round and round in wild alarm; “I don’t see a man anywhere near.”

“And there isn’t one to be seen,” said Aunt Madge, laughing; “there’s nobody following you but Horace himself.  He had no right to frighten you so.”

“Horace!” echoed Dotty, with infinite scorn; “I don’t call him a man!  He’s nothing but a small boy!”

“A small boy!” She had finished the business now.

“The hateful young monkey!” thought Horace.  “I shouldn’t care much if she did have her pocket picked.”

If he had meant a word of this, which he certainly did not, he was well paid for it afterwards.

They went to Greenwood Cemetery, which Dotty had to confess was handsomer than the one in Portland.  Fly thought there were nice places to “hide ahind the little white houses,” which frightened her brother so much, that he carried her in his arms every step of the way.  After strolling for some time about Greenwood, and taking a peep at Prospect Park, they left the “city of churches,” and entered a crowded car to go back to the ferry.

“Look out for our money,” whispered Prudy; “you know auntie says a car is the very place to lose it in.”

“Yes; I’ll look out for your pile, Prue, though I dare say you don’t feel quite so easy about it as you would if Dot had it.”

“Wow, Horace, don’t be cross; you know it isn’t often I have so much money.”

Aunt Madge here gave both the children a very expressive glance, as much as to say,—­

“Don’t mention private affairs in such a crowd.”

Colonel Allen said if his wife had been born deaf and dumb nobody would have mistrusted it, for she could talk with her eyes as well as other people with their tongues.

When they were on the New York side once more, Mrs. Allen said,—­

“Now I will take you through Dotty’s hen-houses.  What have we here?  O, Christmas greens.”

A woman stood at one of the stands, tying holly and evergreens together into long strips, which she sold by the yard.

“We must adorn the house, children.  I will buy some of this, if you will help carry it home.”

“Load me down,” said Horace; “I’ll take a mile of it.”

“Loaden me down, too; I’ll take it a mile,” said Fly.

“Give me that beautiful cross to carry, auntie.”

“Are you willing to carry crosses, Prudy?  Ah, you’ve learned the lesson young!”

“I like the star best,” said Dotty; “why can’t they make suns and moons, too!”

“Will you have a hanker, my pretty miss?” said the woman, dropping a courtesy.

“I never heard of a hanker; it looks some like a kettle-hook.  Let’s buy it; see how nicely it fits on Fly’s shoulder.”