“Hey, Dolly, there’s a squirrel; a real, live one! That’s better’n fairies. Oh, look at him!”
Sure enough, a grey squirrel ran past them, and now sat, turning his head back to look at them, but ready for instant flight if they moved.
But they didn’t move, they knew better; and scarce daring to breathe, they sat watching the wonderful sight.
Meantime, there was consternation in the household. At seven o’clock Miss Rachel had sent Hannah, the waitress, to call the twins.
The maid returned with a scared face, and announced that the children had gone.
“Gone!” cried Miss Rachel, who was engaged in making her own toilet; “where have they gone?”
“I don’t know, ma’am; but they’re not in their rooms, and the front door is wide open.”
“Oh, they’ve run away!” cried Miss Rachel, and hastily throwing on a dressing gown, she went to her sister’s room.
“Get up, Abbie,” she exclaimed. “Those children have run away!”
“Run away? What do you mean?”