"Why, I don't know. Can it?"
"Of course; though just flattering words aren't always the truth. I've heard ladies who came to see mamma say, 'What a sweet child your little one is!'" Rock said this very affectedly, and the girls laughed. "And you know," Rock went on, "they didn't know a thing about me; they just said it to make mamma feel pleased, and that's what I call flattery."
"Oh, yes; I think I see," said Dimple.
The three days that followed were very merry ones for the children. They frolicked from morning till night, and did more wonderful things than ever they had dreamed of doing before.
Rock was the nicest sort of comrade, and they got along without any fusses whatever. Sunday was their last day together, for Florence was to go the next day, too, under the care of Mr. and Mrs. Heath Dallas, and her trunk was standing, packed, ready to be sent.
"Won't we have a pew full this morning?" said Dimple, at the breakfast table. "Five people. Rock, you must sit between Florence and me. I can sit next to mamma, and Florence next to papa."
"Oh, no; let me sit by auntie," said Florence.
"Very well," said Dimple. "I can sit by papa just as well, and if I get sleepy I can tumble over on him."
Papa laughed and said it was a pleasant prospect for him.
The church windows were open, a soft breeze fluttered the leaves outside and the slow rustle of fans fluttered bonnet strings inside.