At this Fairy began to cry. The Dorrances didn't often cry, but when they did, they did it quite as noisily as they did everything else; and Fairy's manner of weeping, was to open her mouth as widely as possible in a succession of loud wails, at the same time digging her fists into her eyes.
She presented such a ridiculous picture that the children couldn't help laughing.
"Do stop that hullaballoo, baby," implored Leicester, "or we'll be so anxious to get rid of you that we'll offer you to Mr. Bill Hodges in settlement of his account."
Fairy was not seriously alarmed by this awful threat, but she stopped crying, because she had suddenly thought of a way out of the difficulty.
"I'll tell you how we can get some money," she said earnestly; "sell the horse!"
The other children laughed at this, but Grandma Dorrance said gently, "We can't do that, dear, for the horse isn't ours. We can't sell the hotel, for nobody seems to want it; so I can't see any way by which we can get any money except to sell the Fifty-eighth Street house."
The children looked aghast at this, for it was their cherished dream some day to return to the big city house to live. They didn't quite know how this was to be accomplished, but they had always thought that when Leicester began to earn money, or perhaps if Dorothy became an author, they would be able to return to the old home.
And so Grandma Dorrance's announcement fell on them like a sudden and unexpected blighting of their hopes.