"How far were you going, my child?"
"I don't know how far. I'm going to Hilltop to see Milly Allen. I don't know how far! Oh, dear, I didn't want any cake. I told him I wasn't very hungry. I told him the old woman lived at Sharon. He didn't believe what I said, and that's why he got left! Oh, dear, if he hadn't got out!"
"It isn't safe to get out unless you know where you are going," said the old lady wisely; but the remark did not seem to be of any particular use just now. And then she put the sassafras lozenges back in her satchel. They didn't seem to be of any particular use, either.
"Oh, dear!" wailed Flaxie, "if I'd only travelled alone! I wanted to travel alone!"
The old gentleman did not quite understand. It seemed to him that she certainly was travelling alone, and if that was what she wanted she ought to be satisfied.
He folded his newspaper, put it in his hat, and came to sit down beside her. He was a better comforter than the old lady, for he had a dozen dear grandchildren at home, while she, poor soul, had only a tortoise-shell cat.
"I wouldn't shed another least drop of a tear," said the good old gentleman, hitting and upsetting the crackers, which tumbled out of the bag upon the floor. "Not one tear would I shed," said he, picking up the crackers. "Your brother will come on to Hilltop to-morrow, or maybe he can come this very afternoon; and then won't you both laugh about this? You'll ask him, 'Where's that cake?' And what do you suppose he'll answer to that?"
"Oh, I don't want the cake; that isn't what I want. My head aches and my throat aches, and I've just had the chicken-pox; and—and—oh, dear, I wish I was at home!"
"Where is your home, my little girl?"