"The boy is waiting for an answer, miss."
"Answer? To what? I don't know whom to answer," said Dolly.
"There's a note, miss."
"A note? where?—Oh, here is a note, Aunt Harry, in the bottom of the box. I did not see it."
"From whom, Dolly?"
Dolly did not answer. She had unfolded the note, and now her whole face was wrinkling up with pleasure or fun; she did not hear or heed her aunt's question. Mrs. Eberstein marked how her colour rose and her smile grew sparkling; and she watched with not a little curiosity and some impatience till Dolly should speak. The little girl looked up at last with a face all dimples.
"O Aunt Harry! it's my piece of rope."
"Your piece of rope, my dear?"
"Yes; I wanted a piece of rope; and this is it."
"That is not a piece of rope."