"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Whitney, with a cheery smile; "I think Phronsie had much better have her own little purse."
"And I want my own purse, too," declared little Dick, struggling to get down from the seat where he was wedged in with Jasper and Phronsie, "Mine is big like a man's," he added, with great importance.
"Dear me!" Mrs. Whitney burst into a merry laugh. "Mrs. Fisher, do you think you could be troubled enough to get Dicky boy's purse, too?" she asked.
"I don't find it any trouble," said Mrs. Fisher, with another laugh, "to get them both." So Phronsie's little purse, with a chain to hang on her arm, and Dick's bigger one, that folded like a pocketbook, were both handed into the carriage, Thomas cracked the whip, and off they went to see Candace in her little shop on Temple Place.
The next day but one, Rachel was visiting in the little stone house among the boulders. Phronsie had carefully explained how the reason that the cups and saucers were all on the ground and the dish-towels thrown carelessly aside, was that they had gone away with Auntie, who couldn't be kept waiting.
"Well, let's wash 'em up now," said Rachel, flying for one of the diminutive dish-towels.
"I'm going to clean out the cupboard," declared little Dick, going back to his original purpose.
"Let us do the cups and saucers first," said Phronsie, with gentle determination, setting down Clorinda on a stone seat next to Rachel's doll, and carefully smoothing out her dress.
"No, I want to do the cupboard," persisted little Dick, with strange obstinacy, for he was generally quite willing to give up to Phronsie.
"I tell you, Phronsie," broke in Rachel suddenly: "let's all set up the cupboard first, and then it will be ready to put the clean dishes into. That's the best way."