The serene old Quaker chirruped to his serene old horse, while the children shouted “Good-by, everybody!” and jumped up and down to try the new velvet cushions. And then the gay little party drove off.
Hop-clover wore Edith’s outgrown blue cambric dress, tucked up and taken in, and Posy’s second-best hat, and looked as respectable as any child in town.
“I’m so glad I’m lame!” thought she; “for that’s what makes everybody love me.”
Was it? Then why didn’t people love Jake Flint, a lying, stealing little boy in Rosewood, who was as lame twice over as Hop-clover?
CHAPTER X.
QUAKER MEETING.
After a lovely ride of twenty miles the carriage stopped at a large yellow farm-house in the midst of trees and flowers. Hop-clover hoped this was Mr. Littlefield’s home; for it looked like just the place where she would wish to go visiting.
They drove round to a side-door. A girl was seated in the entry with her lap full of silver, which she was polishing with all the strength of her big, strong arm.
“How does thee do, Dorothy? Where’s my wife? I’ve brought her some company,” said the Quaker, smiling as he handed out the three children.