"You'll be just big enough to go into the pocket," laughed Dotty.
"Hush!" said Miss Polly, gravely; "you shouldn't joke upon such serious subjects. Good by, children. Your house is full of company, and I didn't come to stay. Here's a bag of thoroughwort I've been picking for your grandmother; you may give it to her with my love, and tell her my side is worse. I shall be in to-morrow."
So saying, Miss Polly went away, seeming to be wafted out of the room on a sigh.
The high-chair was brought down from the attic for Flyaway, who sat in it that evening at the tea-table, and smiled round upon her friends in the most benevolent manner.
"I's growing so big now, mamma," said she, coaxingly, "don't you spect I must have some tea?"
Grandmother pleaded for the youngest, too. "Let me give her some just this once, Maria."
"Well, white tea, then," returned Mrs. Clifford, smiling; "and will Flyaway remember not to ask for it again? Mamma thinks little girls should drink milk."
"Yes'm, I won't never. She gives it to me this night, 'cause I's her little grand-girl. Mayn't Hollis have it too, 'cause he's her little grand-boy?"
"Cunning as ever, you see," whispered the admiring Horace to cousin Susy, who replied, rather indifferently,—
"No cunninger than our Prudy used to be."