Now was the time for Miss Frizzle's courage to come up. She stepped in front of the frightened Lucy, and exclaimed, boldly,—
"I'm Flaxie Frizzle, you know, and this is my cousin. We want to see Dovey Sparrow."
As Flaxie spoke, Lucy tremblingly drew out her card-case.
"Yes, she's in. She and Miss Prim has just come from ridin'. Will ye walk in?" said Katy, very respectfully.
"Please give her these," faltered Lucy, placing in Kitty's hands two cards, one bearing the name, "Augusta L. Ricker," the other a few words in pencil, which somebody must have written for a memorandum:—
"Kerosene oil.
Vanilla.
Oatmeal soap."
Kitty stared at the cards, then at the exquisite Lucy, and suddenly put her calico apron up to her face.
"Will ye wait till I give her the kee-ards, young ladies, or will ye come in the parlor now?" said she, in a stifled voice.
Flaxie Frizzle concluded to walk in; and Lucy, who was now nothing but Flaxie's shadow, followed her in silence.