fference that Flaxie was struck by
it. He was ten years old, just the age of her brother Preston, and had
had some experience in managing children younger than himself. As he
was walking off with Freddy, she trudged after, exclaiming:

"Well, will you lemme leave my umberella? Will you lemme come back
again? Will you, Johnny?"

"We'll see what mother says. What makes you come home with us? Why don't
you stay with the man and be locked up?" replied Master Johnny. But he
had her fast by the hand, and led her home in triumph.

"What did make you try to run away?" asked Freddy, when they were safely
in the house.

Flaxie felt rather ashamed by that time, for Aunt Charlotte and Uncle
Ben were both looking at her.

"I read about a little girl that did it," said she, dropping her eyes.

"Well, I'll read to you about a little girl that didn't do it."

"Hush, Freddy," said mamma, for Flaxie's lips were quivering, "we'll
have our dinner now, and then I am going to Chicopee to see Mrs. Adams,
who has the gold-fishes and parrot and canary. Flaxie may go with me if
she likes."

Flaxie brightened a little at this, and thought she wouldn't go home to
see her mother to-day; she would wait till to-morrow. Still her heart
ached now and then just as hard as ever, and when she was riding in the
cars that afternoon to Chicopee with her aunt beside her and her
second-best dolly in her arms, she did look the picture of woe.

"Toothache, perhaps," thought a woman who entered the car with a baby
and two little girls. One of the girls limped along, scowling as if
every step hurt her.

"How do you do, Mrs. Chase?" said Aunt Charlotte, making room for the
mother and baby by taking Flaxie in her lap; then turning over the seat
just in front of them for the two little girls. "I think it will be a
good thing for my niece, Flaxie Frizzle, to see your children, Mrs.
Chase."

Flaxie wondered why it should be a good thing; still she was glad the
little girls had come, for she liked to look at them.

Hattie was a bright child of six, just her own age; but the lame girl of
ten, what a white face she had! What very light, straw-colored hair! Her
manners were odd, Flaxie thought, for as soon as she saw the doll
Peppermint Drop, she snatched at her and would have pulled off her blue
satin sash if Flaxie had not drawn it away.

"Lucy, Lucy," said Mrs. Chase, "don't touch the little girl's doll!"

Then Lucy leaned forward again, and fingered th