"Everybody thinks their own horses safe," answered Cousin Sarah.
"And with reason, I suppose, since most horses are safe," remarked Margaret.
"I will stay at home with Cousin Sarah, Aunt Ackerman," said Percy, following her aunt to the hall, whither she went to speak to a servant. "Mrs. Stewart told me to tell you and Margaret to be sure and come early; especially Cousin Margaret, because they want her to help."
"My dear child; but I thought you wanted to see the tree and the children very much?"
"I did," answered Percy, with a little sigh; "but then I saw it this afternoon, you know; and the ladies seemed to want you so much. Only, please, I should like to know who gets my dolls. I hope that little round-faced infant will have one—the little girl I told you, was like my little sister."
"I will see that she does. My dear little girl, I am ever so much obliged to you. I am afraid you will have a dull evening."
"Oh, no. And please, aunt, may I have those big books of birds to look at?"
Percy was not destined to have much comfort with the big books of birds. Cousin Sarah was by no means pleased to be left alone in the house, as she said, though she had an able-bodied man and three women within call, whenever she chose to ring the bell.
"But I ought to know what to expect," she concluded, plaintively. "Poor relations are of no account here. They just measure everything by money, money. Such worldliness! My dear, didn't you hear something moving up-stairs?"
"I don't hear anything," answered Percy, listening.