“But do dine with us, Mr. Gray.”
“Thank you, not to-day. Good-by, I’ll send Abbott to watch to-night.” Preston and his cousin Bert Abbott, being in college together, called each other by their surnames, to the no small amusement of Bert’s sister Lucy.
“He calls sleeping here ‘watching,’” laughed Sadie, as Preston glided away, bowing and waving his hand. “But here comes our grocer. Why, who is that with him?”
For as the wagon stopped at the gate, Mr. Fowler lifted a little girl over the wheels.
“Kittyleen! Kittyleen Garland! Dear me, where did you pick her up, Mr. Fowler?”
For it was not to be supposed that Kittyleen came from home. She was an innocent little truant, whose mother never objected to her straying about the streets.
“Glad to see you, Kittyleen; you can go and play in the barn with Flaxie and Fanny,” said Lucy hospitably; and then, turning to Sadie, “Now, what shall we order for dinner?”
Sadie looked helpless.
“What would you advise, Mr. Fowler? Our fathers said we might have anything, and they’d settle the bills; but I——”