"It isn't the burnt one, though," remarked Dotty, as she danced off the door-step; "and I 'spect I'll never see that darling little tea-set any more."
The new house was not in the least like the old one. Susy was always bewailing the contrast. She did not like the wallpaper; the carpets were homely; the rooms were, some of them, too large, and the door-yard, certainly, too small.
"But it's better than nothing," said Prudy, who, for one, was heartily tired of visiting.
"I think," said Mrs. Parlin, smiling, "this is a very good opportunity for my little daughters to learn to make the best of everything. We cannot have the old house, so we will try not to long for it. We never wish for the moon, you know."
"Katie does," laughed Susy.
"We cannot have the old home again, so we will make the new one as happy as we can. Isn't that the best way?"
"Of course it is, mamma," replied all the children.
"'Course, indeed, it is!" said Katie, trying to pull up the carpet in her search for a lost three-cent piece.
"I'm glad father's dressing-gown and slippers didn't get scorched," said Prudy; "and the piano sounds as sweetly as ever it did. It sounds to me just as if there was a family in there, living inside."
"Like what?"