"But he can't scold; for didn't he keep me waiting, too? Now I'll go
back."

The next place she entered was a cigar store.

"I might have known better than to go in; for there's that wooden Indian
standing there, a-purpose to keep ladies out!"

"O, here's a 'Sample Room.' Now this _must_ be the place, for it says
'Push,' on the green door, just as the other one did."

What was Dotty's astonishment, when she found she had rushed into a room
which held only tables, bottles, and glasses, and men drinking something
that smelt like hot brandy!

"I shan't go into any more 'Sample Rooms.' I didn't know a 'Sample'
meant whiskey! But, I do declare, it's funny where _my_ store is gone
to."

The child was going farther and farther away from it.

"Here is one that looks a little like it Any way, I can see a glass
window in there, on the floor."

A lady stood at a counter, folding a piece of green velvet ribbon. Dotty
determined to make friends with her; so she went up to her, and said, in
a low voice, "Will you please tell me, ma'am, if I'm the same little
girl that was in here before? No, I don't mean so. I mean, did I go into
the same store, or is this a different one? Because there's a boy going
to call for me, and I thought I'd better know."

Of course the lady smiled, and said it might, or might not be the same
place; but she did not remember to have seen Dotty before.

"What was the number of the store? The boy ought to have known."

"But I don't believe he did," replied Dotty, indignantly; "he never said
a word to me about numbers. I'm almost afraid I'll get lost!"

"I should be quite afraid of it, child. Where do you live?"

"In Portland, in the State of Maine. Prudy and I came to New York: our
auntie sent for us--I know the place when I see it; side of a church
with ivy; but O, dear! I'm afraid the stage don't stop there. She's at
Mr. Stewart's--she and Prudy."

"Do you mean Stewart's store?"

"O, no'm; it's a man she knows," replied Dotty, confidently; "he lives
in a blue house."

The lady asked no more questions. If Dotty had said "Stewart's store,"
and had remembered that the curtains were blue, and not the building,
Miss Kopper would have thought she knew what to do; she would have sent
the child straight to Stewart's.

"Poor little thing!" said she, twisting the long curl, which hung down
the back of her neck like a bell-rope, and looking as if she cared more
about her hair than she cared for all