“O, Hollis, but he must?” cried Fly, springing to her feet; “I shan’t pass athout my Flipperty!  Tell the ’ductor ’bout my white mouses died, and I can’t go athout sumpin to carry.”

“Pshaw!  Dotty Dimple don’t carry dolls.  She don’t like ’em:  sensible girls never do.”

“Well, I like ’em,” said Flyaway, nothing daunted.  “You knew it byfore; ’n if you didn’t want Flipperty, you’d ought to not come!”

Horace laughed, as he always did when his little sister tried her power over him.  The conductor was an old acquaintance, and he told him how it stood with Flipperty, how she was needed at New York, and all that; whereupon Mr. Van Dusen gave Fly a little green card, and told her to keep it to show to all the conductors on the road; for it was a free pass, and would take Flipperty all over the United States.

“Yes, sir, if you please,” said Fly, with a blush and a smile, and put the “free pass” in Miss Flop’s cloak pocket.

After this, she never once failed to show it, whenever Mr. Van Dusen, or any other conductor, came near, but always had to hunt for it, and once brought up a cookie instead, which fearful mistake mortified her to the depths of her soul.

Horace was sure all eyes were fixed on his charming little charge, and was proud of the honor of showing her off; but he paid for it dearly; it cost him more than his Latin, with all the irregular verbs.  There was no such thing as her being comfortable.  She was full of care about him, herself, and the baggage.  Flipperty lost off a rubber boot, which bounced over into the next seat.  Horace had to ask a gentleman and his sick daughter to move, and, after all, it was in an old lady’s lap.

Then Fly’s feet were cold, and Horace took her to the stove; but that made her eyes too hot, and she danced back, to lie with her head on his breast and her feet against the window, till she suddenly whirled straight about, and planted her tiny boots under his chin.

“O, Topknot, Topknot, I pity that woman with the baby, if she feels as lame all over as I do!”

“Where’s the baby, Hollis?  O, I see.”

“What’s the matter, now?  Why upon earth can’t you sit still, child?” said Horace, next minute, catching her as she was darting into the aisle, dragging Miss Flop by the hair of the head.

“O, Hollis, don’t you see there’s a dolly over there, with two girls and a lady with red clo’es on?  ’Haps they’d be willing for her to get ’quainted with Flipperty?”

“Well, Topknot, ’haps they would, but ’haps I wouldn’t.  I can’t have you dancing all over the car, in this style.”

Flyaways’s lip quivered, and a tear started.  Horace was moved.  One of Fly’s tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her eyelashes, and wasn’t heavy enough to drop.

“Well, there, darling, you just sit still,—­not still enough, though, to give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),—­and I’ll bring the girls and dollie over here to you.  Will that do?”