The little fellow shook his head, and just then, the articles in that room being disposed of, the crowd went into the next, and the two children were left alone.
“Are you going to move?” asked Mabel. “I live across the street, you know, and I saw the red flag hanging out, so I just came over.”
The boy nodded.
“I’m Mabel Ford. My sister told me your name; it’s Harold, isn’t it? What a dear dog that is. What’s his name?” Mabel was not to be daunted by Harold’s silence.
“Don.” This time he answered her.
“I wish you were not going away. Do you want to?” Mabel’s questions continued.
“No,” returned Harold, “but you know father has to go with his regiment to Cuba, and so I have to go.”
“Oh, are you going to Cuba? What will you do when they are fighting? When are you going?”
“I don’t know when I am going, but I am not going to Cuba.”
“Oh, I should think you would be glad not to. Will they take all the things out of the house?”