"Then we must turn our old gowns, though in truth there seems no lack of fine attire if one looks at the gay maidens on the street. They seem turned into butterflies. And it must take a mint of money for their wings."
The clerk smiled.
"Let us go round by the creek," pleaded Primrose. "The skaters are so merry."
"If thou wilt not coax to stay more than a moment."
The child promised.
As they were turning a corner a young man eyed them sharply. Primrose did not see him, and Patty hurried on, for he was a stranger.
But he took some long strides and caught up to them.
"It is Mistress Primrose Henry——"
The little girl turned.
"Oh, Patty, it is Miss Polly Wharton's brother," she said, holding out her hand.