“It seems to me,” said Dot, gravely, “that Sandy-face must be hunting for her lost children. She wouldn’t really neglect this poor little Spotty for any other reason—would she?”
“Of course not,” Ruth said, briskly. “Now, girls, look here. Mr. Howbridge says we may keep Uncle Rufus, and he will pay him.”
“Oh, goody!” cried Agnes, clapping her hands.
At once Spotty tumbled off her lap and scurried under the sofa. He was not used to such actions.
“Now you’ve scared Spotty, I’m afraid,” said Tess.
“He can get over his scare. What’s that in your hand, Ruth?” demanded Agnes.
“This is some money Mr. Howbridge gave me for us to spend. He calls it our monthly allowance. He says we are to use it just as we please—each of us.”
“Is some of it mine?” asked Dot.
“Yes, dearie. We’ll see how much he gives you to spend for your very owniest own, first of all.”
Ruth tore open the big envelope and shook out four sealed envelopes of smaller size. She sorted them and found the one addressed in Mr. Howbridge’s clerkly hand to “Miss Dorothy Kenway.”