"Don't be afraid of me, dears," said the lady, laughing; "I call myself a runaway just in sport. I am a warm admirer of yours, and my dear friend, your auntie, has promised me a visit from you. I came on purpose to ask you, and your sister, and your cousins to my house to dinner to-morrow. Will you come?"
Mother Hubbard gazed doubtfully at the steel-colored glove. What could she say?
"Thank you ever so much, Mrs.—Mrs. Pradigoff, but Fly is not allowed to go out."
Flyaway was greatly chagrined.
"Well, I—I solomon promised," said she, casting down her guilty eyes, as she remembered the orange man; "I solomon promised I would't go ou' doors, athout somebody lets me."
"There's a tender conscience for you," laughed the Polish lady. "Why was she not to go out, Miss Prudy?"
"Because she is so quick-motioned, ma'am. Before you know it she's lost. That's the reason I pinned her to my dress. You see, ma'am, we are playing 'keep house.'"
"O, if her quickness is all the trouble, I'll take the responsibility that she shan't get lost. I'll bind her fast with a silken chain. Really, children, my heart is set on your coming. My house is full of things that make a noise—a canary, a paroquet, a mocking-bird, a harp, a piano, and a guitar. And—"
Mrs. Pragoff did not add that she had invited a little party to meet them. She was afraid of frightening the timid souls.
"Would you like to come, Miss Prudy? Tell me honestly, now."