ther. For instance, she longed to ask if those cunning little
spectacles on the doll's head in the case near her, were for sale, and
if the Spectacle Man had any children who read the _St. Nicholas_ and
what the gray cat's name was, for that he had a name she didn't doubt,
he was so evidently an important part of the establishment.

He had descended from the directory, which was rather circumscribed for
one of his size, and curled himself comfortably on the counter; but
instead of going to sleep he gently fanned his nose with the tip of his
tail, and kept his yellow eyes fixed on Frances as if he too felt some
curiosity about her. She was thinking how much she would like to have
him in her lap when the Spectacle Man looked around and said, "The next
time your grandmother breaks these frames she will have to have some new
ones."

"They aren't my grandmother's, they are Mrs. Gray's. I haven't any
grandmother," she answered.

"You haven't? Why, that's a coincidence; neither have I!"

Frances laughed but didn't think of anything else to say, so the
conversation dropped, and the optician fell to humming:--

"The bridge is broke."

They might never have become really acquainted if, just as he was giving
a final polish to the glasses, it had not begun to rain.

"What shall I do?" Frances exclaimed, rising hurriedly. "I haven't any
umbrella."

The Spectacle Man walked to the window, the glasses in one hand, a piece
of chamois in the other. "It may be only a shower," he said, peering
out; "but it is time for the equinoctial." Then, seeing the little girl
was worried, he asked how far she had to go.

"Only two blocks; we are staying at the Wentworth, but mother and father
were out when I left and won't know where I am."

"Well, now, don't you worry; Dick will be in presently and I'll send him
right over to the hotel to let them know where you are, and get a
waterproof for you."

This made Frances feel more comfortable; and when, after putting the
glasses in their case and giving her the change from Mrs. Gray's dollar,
he lit the gas in the back parlor and invited her in, she almost forgot
the storm.

The room was quite different from any she had ever been in, and she at
once decided she liked it. Around the walls were low cases, some filled
with books and papers, others with china and pottery; from the top of an
ancient looking chest in one corner a large stuffed owl gazed solemnly
at her; the mantel-shelf was fu