o you want Mrs. Hardy to
like us?"

"I have two or three reasons. I will tell you when we have more time.
Hurry, Florence, and put on your frock; it is nearly half-past four."

"I hear a carriage stopping," said Dimple, running to look out of the
window. "Florence, Florence, do hurry; Rock and his mother are out there
in a carriage; where are the dolls? Oh, here they are. No, I have
yours," she exclaimed, excitedly. "Do, Florence, get your hat."

"Don't get so excited, Dimple," said her mamma. "There is no need of
such a very great hurry as all that. I will go down and you can come.
You have forgotten your handkerchief; it is there on the bureau."

"Oh Dimple, do get me a handkerchief too," said Florence, "I don't know
what does make me so behindhand."

"Perfume, Florence?"

"Oh, please, just a wee drop, not too much."

"Cologne or violet water?"

"Which have you?"

"Cologne."

"Then I will take the other. Now I'm ready. Do you suppose we are going
anywhere? It is such a little way to drive only to the house."

"I don't know," returned Dimple. "We'll soon see."

"We thought it was so early," said Mrs. Hardy, "that we could take a
short drive before tea, if these little girls would like it."

"Indeed we should," said they.

"Then help them in, Rock," and they were soon seated, driving off in
great style, dolls and all.

Meanwhile, Bubbles sat on the roof, waiting for their return. As the
time passed and they did not come, she made desperate efforts to get
down, but there was no way. The tree that shaded the woodhouse was just
too high to reach, and she crept to the edge of the roof, making up her
mind to jump, but when she saw the distance her heart failed her, and
she went back.

"Leave me hyah all night I s'pose," she said, "mebbe I'll ketch cold and
die; 'most wisht I would."

Then she heard some one call "Bubbles, Bubbles," but though she
answered, no one came.

It grew later and later, the sun went down, and the sky sent up little
puffs of pink clouds overhead.

Bubbles lay down on her back, and looked up at the sky. After a while a
little star peeped out, then disappeared again, like a baby playing
"Peep-bo."

"Angels, I reckon," thought Bubbles. "S'pose I won't git to see 'em. I
reckon stealin's awful," and she lay there in a very humble frame of
mind, till she went to sleep.

"I cannot imagine what has become of Bubbles," said Mrs. Dallas to her
husband when he came in. "I have looked