"Where are you going, little one?" asked a man who passed her.
She gave him a roguish glance as she answered, "To martet."
At the next corner she turned again to the right, safely crossing the street, but here everything was unfamiliar and she began to feel timid. Then she suddenly saw a very large dog coming toward her. He was so large she thought he must be a bear, and, with a frightened scream, she turned to run, but tripped over her parasol, and fell, a forlorn little heap, on the sidewalk.
"What is the matter? Are you hurt? You mustn't be afraid of the dog; he is good, and doesn't bite."
These reassuring words were spoken by a girl of eleven or twelve, who helped her up and brushed off her dress.
"What a darling you are!" she added, as Carie lifted her big blue eyes, all swimming in tears, saying, "I fought it was a bear."
"No, indeed; he is only a nice old dog who lives next door to me, so I know all about him. Now tell me where you are going all alone?"
"I runned away," was the honest answer, "and I dess you better take me home," she added, looking up confidingly into the pleasant face.
"Then you must tell me what your name is and where you live."
Carie could tell her name, but to the other question could only answer, "Over there," pointing in the wrong direction with great assurance. Her companion was puzzled; she felt certain some one was alarmed at the disappearance of this dainty little midget.