"And you are really glad to have me back again," she said, with an arm around each little girl, "though you were so glad to have me go. And how did the pie turn out?"
"It wasn't good," admitted Dimple, candidly; "so we gave it to an organ-grinder."
"What charitable, generous children, to be sure," laughed Mrs. Dallas. "By the way, Dimple, I forgot to tell you that possibly the paperhanger might be here; he was to come one day this week to paper the upper hall."
Dimple looked at Florence and Florence looked at Dimple. "We thought he was a crazy man," presently said the latter, in a shamefaced way.
"Crazy! Why, what do you mean?"
"He came to the side door," explained Dimple. "Those were rolls of paper on his back, Florence, and we got frightened and wouldn't let him in."
"You silly little geese! I see I must not leave you again."
"But everything else was all right," Florence informed her, "only I burned my hand a little. I had almost forgotten it, Dimple."
"Then you don't want me to go away, altogether," said Mrs. Dallas.