Bond Street]

"'Prescott's, Bond Street,'" said Mr. Graham, reading from a paragraph
in the morning paper. "Here it is: 'A fire occurred yesterday afternoon
in the ladies' tailoring department. The stock-room was gutted, but
fortunately the assistants escaped without injury.'"

Dorothy, with a very long face, was reading over her mother's shoulder:

"In consequence of a fire in the tailoring department Messrs. Prescott
beg to inform their customers that some delay will be caused in getting
out this week's orders. Business will, however, be continued as usual,
and it will greatly facilitate matters if ladies having costumes now in
hand will repeat the order by wire or telephone to avoid mistakes."

"It's very smart of them to have got that notice here so soon," said Mr.
Graham.

"Mother," said Dorothy, swallowing very hard, "do you think it is burnt?
After being fitted and all!"

"It is a disappointment," said her mother kindly, "but they'll make you
another."

"It's a _shame_!" burst out Dorothy, with very hot cheeks. "These sort
of things always happen to _me_! Can't we go to Chelmsford and get one
ready-made?"

"That's a girl all over!" exclaimed Dick. "Now the man's down, let's
kick him!"

Mr. Graham turned his head with a sharp look at Dick, who immediately,
getting very red, pretended to be picking up something under the table.

"I didn't say _anything_ about _any_ man!" said Dorothy, appealing all
round. "Mother, can't I have a costume from Chelmsford?"

"No, dear," said Mrs. Graham coldly; "this one is ordered."

"Dick is right, Dolly," said her father. "Don't you see it is the people
who have had the _fire_ we should pity? And is it not bad enough to have
their place burnt, without losing their customers?"

Dorothy sulked. She thought every one was very unkind, and it seemed the
last straw when father took Dick's part against her.

It was time for Mr. Graham to go to town. He had eaten scarcely any
breakfast, and Mrs. Graham, who had been anxiously watching him, had
eaten none at all, but things of this sort children don't often notice.

When he passed his little girl's chair, he put his hand kindly on her
shoulder, and the tears that had been so near welled into her eyes.

"Poor Dolly!" Mr. Graham said presently, as he reached for his hat,
"everything seems of a piece." And he gave a great sigh.

Mrs. Graham always went as far as the gate with him, and he thought they
were alone in the hall