Throwing a light shawl round her, Miss Rachel went with Dick, quite sure that some accident had befallen Dolly. It was quite a little walk to the woods, and Dick began to wonder whether Phyllis would have waited, or whether she would have become scared and gone home. She seemed like a timid little thing, and Dick well knew that Miss Rachel’s anger was a formidable thing to brave. He felt far from calm himself.

“Where are you taking me?” said Aunt Rachel, as they crossed the orchard.

“To the woods,” replied Dick, briefly; “Dolly is there.”

And Aunt Rachel said no more, but walked rapidly along by Dick’s side, her mind full of horrible imaginings of Dolly, perhaps fallen from a tree, or in some other dreadful plight. When she reached the wood she saw the two little girls, seated on the flat stone, their arms about each other, and their faces red and tear-stained. Indeed, the big tears even now rolled down Dolly’s cheeks, as she saw the stern expression that came over Aunt Rachel’s face.

“Phyllis Middleton!” exclaimed the angry-looking lady; “what does this mean? You know you are forbidden to step foot on my property!”

“Yes’m,” began Phyllis, timidly, but Dick took the helm.

“Aunt Rachel,” he said, “I asked you to come out here, ’cause Phyllis wouldn’t go to the house. And I want to ask you to let her be Dolly’s friend; they love each other a heap.”

Then Aunt Rachel’s wrath was turned toward her niece.

“Dolly,” she said, severely, “you know I positively forbade you to speak to Phyllis Middleton.”

“Yes, Auntie; b-but I didn’t know it was Phyllis, when I first spoke to her.”

“Well, you know it now. Come away from her at once. Phyllis, go straight home, and don’t ever dare come here again.”

The case was hopeless.

Phyllis withdrew herself from Dolly’s embrace, and rose to go away.

Jack Fuller stood by, unable to help, and very nearly crying himself in sympathy with the two forlorn little girls.

Aunt Rachel, in her surprise and indignation, had seated herself on the edge of a big stone, opposite Dolly and Phyllis, and sat with frowning face, waiting for the unwelcome visitor to depart.

In her extremity of despair, Dolly had an inspiration. With a cry of, “Oh, please, Auntie Rachel!” she sprang at her aunt, and threw her arms around the neck of the irate lady. She squeezed her until she nearly choked her; she showered kisses on her face and neck; she whispered in her ear, “Please, dear Auntie, oh, please let me have her for my little friend; I love her so! Please, Auntie!”

Dick, anxiously watching Miss Rachel’s face, saw a change. Not only did it become warm and red from the strangling hugs she was undergoing, but he felt sure there was a relenting expression in her eyes.

Partly out of gratitude for this, and partly from a desire to further Dolly’s cause, he too rushed at his aunt, and added his affectionate demonstrations to those of his sister. His arms somehow found room, too, round her neck, and he industriously kissed the other side of her face, while he cried, “Please, Auntie Rachel, even if you don’t like the Middletons, please let Phyllis and Dolly be friends! Please, Auntie!”

So cyclonic was the beginning of this performance, and so vigorous its continuance, that Miss Rachel was soon on the verge of physical collapse, and wildly waved her hands, in a futile endeavour to shake off the besiegers.

Phyllis and Jack were appalled at the scene, and were almost uncertain whether the attack was really affectionate or of a hostile nature.

“For gracious’ sake, Dolly, do stop!” cried Miss Rachel, at last, as her glasses flew off, and her carefully arranged coiffure became a wreck. “Dick, let go of me!”

“Yes, Auntie,” he said, kneeling at one side, and possessing himself of one of her hands, while Dolly did the same with the other; “but, Auntie, do say yes, won’t you?”

“Won’t you, Auntie?” echoed Dolly; “won’t you, Auntie? Please, dear Auntie Rachel, won’t you? Please!”

The words, repeated so often, seemed to become meaningless, but not so the beseeching expression on the two upturned, pleading little faces.

Aunt Rachel looked at them, – Dick’s eager hopeful gaze; Dolly’s tearful, despairing eyes, – and her hard heart melted.

She put an arm round each of the quivering little bodies, and said softly:

“Wait a minute, dears, let me think it over.”

If Miss Rachel needed further incentive, the joy that flashed into the twins’ faces must have given it to her, for she went on almost immediately:

“You cannot understand the grown-up part of this; you cannot be told about why Mrs. Middleton and I are not on friendly terms; but this I will grant. If Phyllis’s mother will let her be Dolly’s friend, I shall be glad to have it so. If Phyllis is allowed to come to Dana Dene, Dolly may also visit her and you may play together all you like. There is really no reason why you children should suffer for the sake of your elders, and I see that clearly now. Come here, Phyllis.”

Phyllis rose and went to Miss Rachel, who looked her over with evident interest.

“You are a nice child,” she said, at last, with a nod of approval. “I shall be glad to have you become Dolly’s friend. Do you think your mother will object?”

“I know she will, Miss Dana,” said Phyllis, sadly; “I am sure she won’t let me go to Dana Dene.”

“Then I shall go to see her, myself, and I fancy I can persuade her.”

Miss Rachel said this with a majestic air, yet with a grim smile, and the children felt that though they certainly did not understand the “grown-up part of it,” yet their cause was won, and Dolly and Phyllis would be permitted to play together to their hearts’ content.

“Thank you, Miss Rachel,” said Phyllis, timidly taking her hand, and feeling that she ought to show her gratitude by some demonstration, after the example set her by the twins.

Miss Rachel kissed her gently on the forehead, and then put her hand in Dolly’s; bidding the two little girls seal their friendship with a kiss, and then say good-bye until to-morrow.

“Scamper home, across the orchard, Phyllis,” she went on, “and tell your mother all about it, if you choose; and say I shall call on her this evening.”

Jack went with Phyllis, as that was the way toward his own home, and the three Danas went back to the house.

“Oh, Auntie, you are so good,” said Dolly, as, with her arm round her aunt’s waist, she walked by her side. “It was lovely of you to give up your favourite feud for me!”

Miss Rachel smiled at Dolly’s choice of words, but she only said:

“It is right, dearie. It would be very foolish to keep you two little girls apart because of what happened to your ancestors, twenty years ago.”

“Yes’m; and are you going to keep on feuding with Mrs. Middleton?”

“I don’t know yet,” said Miss Rachel, smiling again; “if I do, it will be because she insists upon it. But I feel sure I can persuade her to feel as I do, about you children.”

“You’re a brick, Auntie,” declared Dick, who walked at her other side. “I was ’most sure you’d cave in when you saw how the girls felt about it.”

“It was really the way you two felt about it, that persuaded me; indeed, if I hadn’t ‘caved in,’ as you call it, I think you would have squeezed me to pieces.”

“Yes, we’re good coaxers,” said Dick, modestly. “We used to coax Auntie Helen that way; but she always got to laughing.”

“It wasn’t a humorous occasion, to-day,” said Aunt Rachel, and then they all went in to supper.

Aunt Abbie, who was wondering what had become of them, was then told the whole story, which greatly interested her.

“And now,” said Dolly, as everything had been explained, “you see why I was asking about fairies last night. I didn’t really think Phyllis was a fairy, but she came so – so unexpected, you know, and she wouldn’t tell me her name, and she told me to keep it all a secret.”

“I think that part of it was a little naughty,” said Aunt Abbie, judicially.

“Yes’m,” agreed Dolly. “But you see she ’pented, and to-day she came to tell me that she had ’cided it was naughty, and she wasn’t coming any more. So that took away the naughtiness, didn’t it, Auntie Rachel?”

“Yes, I think it did, dearie. I feel sure Phyllis is a conscientious little girl, and will be a good friend for you in every way.”

“But I’ll always call her Pinkie,” said Dolly; “’cause I called her that at first, and Phyllis is such a grown-up name. Will you go over and see about it right away, Auntie?”

“After a while, Dolly. But I shall not return until after you’ve gone to bed, so don’t think any more about it till morning.”

Aunt Rachel spoke calmly, but the children little knew what it meant to her to subdue her pride and make the advance toward a truce with Mrs. Middleton. Their quarrel, though it had occurred many years ago, was as bitter as ever, and reconciliation seemed impossible. Neither had ever been willing to suggest such a thing, and though kind-hearted friends had tried to bring it about, their efforts had met with no success. Miss Abbie was, of course, amazed at the way things were going, but her offer to accompany her sister was met with a gentle but decided refusal.

And so, nobody ever knew what passed between the two neighbours that evening. Whatever way she humiliated herself, or whatever arguments she used, Miss Rachel never told; but, at least, her main errand was successful, and Mrs. Middleton agreed to let Phyllis and Dolly play together all they liked, and visit at each other’s homes whenever they chose.

As for the two ladies themselves, they didn’t at once forgive and forget all of their long-standing unpleasantness, but they agreed to be, at least, calling acquaintances, for the children’s sake; and I may as well say here that eventually the breach was healed, and by degrees they became really friendly neighbours.

Dolly was too excited and anxious to sleep, so when she heard Miss Rachel come in, though it was late, she sprang out of bed, and throwing a blue kimono over her little frilled nightgown, she ran out into the hall, and called down over the banisters:

“Is it all right, Auntie Rachel? Is it all right?”

“Yes, it’s all right, Dolly. Go back to bed, you’ll catch cold.”

By this time, Dick had bounced out of his room. A bath-robe was round him, over his pink-striped pajamas, and as he heard Aunt Rachel’s assurance that their cause was won, he whispered to Dolly, “Let’s go down and hug her!”

“Let’s!” replied Dolly, and the two bare-footed, dressing-gowned little figures flew downstairs and precipitated themselves upon the already exhausted lady.

“Don’t, children!” cried Aunt Abbie, as Miss Rachel was almost lost to sight in clouds of eider-down flannel, and four eager, waving arms. “Don’t! you’ll wear Auntie Rachel out, she’s almost collapsed now.”

“No, Abbie; let them be. I like it,” gasped Aunt Rachel, from behind two curly heads that seemed to be devouring her.

So Aunt Abbie only laughed, inwardly rejoicing that the children had brought about an amicable adjustment of the old quarrel, and glad, too, that her reserved and undemonstrative sister enjoyed the wild antics of the two little savages.

“Auntie Abbie next!” shouted Dick, gleefully, and Aunt Rachel received a respite, as the twins’ attentions were showered upon their other aunt.

But she wouldn’t stand quite so much.

“Be off with you!” she cried. “You’re worse than a pair of little bear-cubs!”

“We are bear-cubs,” cried Dick, enchanted with the suggestion. Then he growled, and pawed and clawed at Aunt Abbie, winding up with a hug that nearly cracked her bones.

Dolly, always ready to take her cue, was also a bear-cub, and between them they made Aunt Abbie’s life miserable for a few minutes.

“Scamper now!” she cried, as she emerged, laughing, from the latest onslaught. “Run to bed, both of you. I’ve had enough of this!”

So, with final pats and kisses all round, the twins went upstairs, and were soon snugly in bed once more.

Dolly thought she should never go to sleep, she was so happy in the thoughts of her new friend.

Dear Pinkie! She was so pretty and sweet, and Dolly smiled to herself at thought of all the fun they could have playing together. They would always be friends, even after they grew up to be young ladies, and they would never have a foolish quarrel, as Pinkie’s mother and Auntie Rachel had had. And so, fairly revelling in happy anticipations, Dolly fell asleep.

Downstairs, the two sisters talked long and earnestly.

“It’s a blessing those two children ever came here,” said Miss Abbie, at last.

“It is a blessing in some ways,” said Miss Rachel, “but they’re going to be a terrible responsibility. Such overflowing spirits I never saw! They can’t be still a second. And we must stop these fearful tornadoes of affection!”

“Oh, I thought you enjoyed them!”

“I do enjoy their hearty demonstrations and endearments. They’re so real and spontaneous. But we must curb them, for it isn’t good for the children to be allowed such savagery. For it is savagery.”

“It is, indeed!” agreed Aunt Abbie, ruefully. “My arm’s lame yet, from their squeezing.”

“Well, we’ll correct them. But I don’t want to be too harsh, poor little motherless things.”

“Yes, and fatherless, too. We must be very good to them, Rachel, but it isn’t true kindness to be too indulgent, you know.”

“No, of course not. We must be firm, yet gentle.”

And so the two ladies discussed the management of the twins, not realising at all, that on the contrary, the twins were managing them! For though good and obedient children, Dick and Dolly generally succeeded in getting their own sweet way, as witness the case of Phyllis Middleton.

CHAPTER X
AN AUCTION SALE

Life at Dana Dene settled down into a pleasant routine that was in no sense monotony. Every day the sewing and the practising and the gardening had their appointed hours. But this left hours and hours of play-time, and the twins improved them all.

Phyllis and Dolly were very chummy little companions, and scarcely a day passed without their seeing each other.

Dick and Jack Fuller were chums too, and though the twins became acquainted with many of the other children in Heatherton, they liked these earliest made friends best of all.

Often they went to town, for Dana Dene was about a mile out from the village itself. Sometimes they drove in state with the aunties, or perhaps less formally, on morning errands. Sometimes they rode on the big spring wagon with Pat or Michael, and sometimes on pleasant days, they walked.

One delightful afternoon, the aunties had gone to sewing society, and the twins were holding a consultation as to what would be the most fun for them to do.

“Let’s walk to town and get some soda water,” suggested Dolly.

“All right,” returned Dick; “but we needn’t walk unless we want to. Michael’s going down with the wagon. But he isn’t ready yet.”

“Well, let’s walk on, and then when he comes along we can get in, if we want to.”

“Yes, and we can ride home, anyway.”

So after arranging with Michael to look out for them on the way, Dick and Dolly started off. They loved to walk to town, for there was so much of interest along the way. The first part, more or less wooded, showed various enticing spots to sit down and rest a while.

Squirrels were apt to come round and be sociable, or birds would sing little songs of greeting from the branches. There were always new wild-flowers, and just now the wild roses were opening, and daisies were in bloom.

And, if they were very cautious, there was always a chance of seeing fairies.

Now that Pinkie was understood, Dolly returned to her original idea of fairies, – tiny, fragile beings, with wings and wands.

Dick had some doubts as to their existence, but was always on the alert to catch sight of them in the woods.

Then, after the woodsy part was passed, came the beginnings of the streets, with houses few and far apart; and then the bridge, – always a fine place to linger, – and then houses closer together, many of which were good stopping-places, and finally the business portion of the little town itself.

Here were fascinating shops, with windows delightfully full of tempting wares, also a caterer’s shop, where one could choose between cakes and ice cream, or candy and soda water.

The twins were allowed fifty cents apiece each week for spending money. With this, they could do exactly as they chose, with the stipulation that not more than ten cents in one day should be spent for edibles. As they conscientiously obeyed this rule, the aunts felt sure they could not seriously harm their digestion. And, besides, they did not buy sweets every time they went to town. Sometimes it was marbles or tops or ribbons for dolls.

On this particular occasion the twins felt specially rich, for they each had an untouched half dollar just given them by Aunt Rachel, and they had also a goodly portion of the previous week’s income still unspent. Not that they expected necessarily to spend it, but it seemed pleasant to have their fund with them, and if they should see anything very desirable they might purchase it.

So they trudged along, with open minds, ready to accommodate anything that offered in the way of interest or pleasure.

As they reached the main street they saw a great crowd of people in front of one of the shops, and wondered what the reason might be. Coming nearer, they saw a red flag waving over the door, and Dick exclaimed:

“Why, it’s an auction! I never saw one before; come on, Dolly, let’s go in.”

So in the twins went, and soon became greatly interested in the proceedings.

They edged through the crowd, until they were quite near the auctioneer, and then they listened, spellbound, to his discourse. Never having seen an auction sale before, the manner of conducting it appealed to them, and they breathlessly watched and listened as one lot after another was sold to the bidders.

The stock was that of a clothing emporium, and consisted of ready-made suits for both men and women.

“I’d like to buy something that way,” said Dick to his sister, “but they’re only grown-ups’ clothes, and anyway, they cost too much. If they put up anything small I’m going to bid.”

“Maybe they’ll have handkerchiefs or something like that,” suggested Dolly, eager also to join the game of bidding.

But there were no small articles for sale, nothing but men’s suits and ladies’ costumes, so Dick and Dolly lost hope of being able to bid for anything.

They wandered round the place, meeting several people whom they knew, and who spoke pleasantly to them. But they were all grown-ups, – there were no children there but the twins, so hand in hand they wandered about, always drifting back to hear the auctioneer crying out:

“Ten, – ten, – do I hear eleven?” or “Going, going – gone!”

They listened carefully to his phraseology, for they well knew “auction” would be one of their favourite games in the near future, and Dick wanted to learn the lingo, so that he could play auctioneer after the most approved fashion. At last the sale was about over, and the audience began to go away. Only a few men remained, and the fixtures of the shop were then put up. Office furniture, show-cases and such things were sold quickly, and then was put up a lot of wax tailors’ dummies. These wax figures, both men and women, were so comical that Dick and Dolly laughed aloud to see them put up for sale. It was almost like selling people. But the man who bought them didn’t seem to think it funny at all. He bid them in, like any other merchandise, but he refused to take one of them, saying it was too badly damaged.

This unfortunate one was a wax-faced lady whose cheek was badly dented and marred, thus making her undesirable as a window attraction. She was carelessly set aside, and the twins looked at her with curiosity.

“Dick,” whispered Dolly, “I’d love to have her! She’d be more fun than a big doll. Do you s’pose we could get her?”

“I dunno. It would be fun! We could rig her up, and set her up in the playground. How much money have you?”

“Just seventy-seven cents.”

“And I have eighty-six. Let’s ask the man.”

So Dick stepped up to the auctioneer, and said:

“Could you auction up that other wax lady, sir?”

“That one, kid? Why, she’s no good.”

“Not for a shopman, I know, but – if she didn’t cost so much, we’d like to have her.”

“You would! Well, you’re two pretty nice little children, suppose I give her to you?”

Dick hesitated. It seemed too great a favour, and beside he wanted the fun of bidding.

“Well, you see,” he said, “I think we’d rather pay, if it isn’t too much, because, – you see, – we want to do that calling out.”

“Oho! You want the real auctioneering game, do you? Well, I’ll have her put up.”

The auctioneer was a jolly, good-natured man, and as his task was about over, he felt inclined to humour the children.

“Here,” he called to his assistant, “put up that golden-haired goddess.”

Appreciating the situation, the man set the wax dummy upon the platform.

“Here you are!” cried the auctioneer. “What am I bid for this lovely lady? Though slightly marred in the face, she has a good heart, and is warranted good-tempered and kind. What am I bid?”

Dick hesitated; now that the time had come he felt suddenly shy, and felt uncertain how much to offer.

“Ten cents!” came a voice from another part of the room. Then Dick felt that he was really in the business at last, and he called out sturdily:

“Fifteen!”

“Fifteen,” echoed the auctioneer. “Fifteen! do I hear any more? Only fifteen cents for this beautiful work of art?”

“Twenty!” called the other voice, and for some reason the auctioneer scowled.

“Twenty!” he cried; “twenty? Do I hear twenty-five?”

“Twenty-five!” cried Dick, his face all aglow with the excitement of the moment.

“Twenty-five!” sang out the auctioneer. “Twenty-five! Is there another bid?”

But the menacing face he turned toward the other bidder must have silenced him, for he said no more.

“Twenty-five!” went on the auctioneer, quite gaily now. “Twenty-five! That seems too cheap for this Prize Beauty. Twenty-five! Is that all?”

It did seem too cheap, and Dick suddenly felt that it ought to bring more. Besides, the auctioneer’s voice was persuasive, and so, still in the spirit of the game, Dick cried out, “Thirty!”

The auctioneer suddenly choked, and the man in the back of the room burst into shouts of laughter, but Dick didn’t mind now. With shining eyes, he awaited the auctioneer’s next move, and seeing this, the smiling gentleman went on:

“Thirty! Thirty cents for this Darling Dame. She looks like that! Do I hear any more? Thirty – going – going – ”

“Thirty-five!” said Dolly, timidly, but in clear tones.

Dick looked at her admiringly. Dolly was a trump. He was glad she had a part in the great game too.

“Thirty-five!” called the auctioneer, red in the face, but preserving his gravity. “Thirty-five!”

“Forty!” cried Dick.

“Forty-five!” said Dolly.

“Fifty!” yelled Dick, smiling at his sister.

“Fifty-five,” she cried, smiling back.

“Stop!” cried the auctioneer, “you two mustn’t bid against each other!”

“Why not?” asked Dick. “We have the money. We’ve more ’n a dollar ’n’ a half, together.”

“Yes, but one of you can buy this thing if you really want it. So stop bidding, and take it for fifty cents.”

“All right,” agreed Dick, “we’ll each pay twenty-five.”

This plan suited Dolly, and the money was paid at once.

“You have to take your goods with you, you know,” said the auctioneer, not unkindly, as he watched the two delighted children.

“Yes, we will,” said Dolly. “Michael’s outside somewhere, with the big wagon. He’ll take us all home.”

“You stay here with the lady, Dolly,” said Dick, “and I’ll run out and hunt Michael.”

“Go on,” said the auctioneer, “I’ll look after Miss Dolly and her new friend both.”

The auctioneer had children of his own, and was greatly interested in his two young customers.

“What do you want of this affair?” he asked Dolly, after Dick had gone.

“To play with,” she returned. “I know we can dress her up and have lots of fun with her.”

“Perhaps I can find you some clothes for her here,” he offered; “she ought to have a hat and shawl.”

“Oh, never mind,” said Dolly, easily; “we’ll take her home, and I think Aunt Rachel’s clothes will fit her. If not, we’ll try Hannah’s.”

The wax lady was simply robed in a drab muslin slip, whose plainness contrasted strangely with the bright pink of her complexion, the large mop of yellow hair, and the waxen forearms – except for her head, neck, and forearms the lady was a sort of wire frame, more or less bent.

But Dolly saw wondrous possibilities, and cared not at all that her ladyship was so imperfectly arrayed at present.

Dick soon returned, and announced that Michael was outside in the wagon.

The auctioneer’s obliging assistant carried the wax lady to the door, and then the twins took it.

“The saints preserve us!” cried Michael; “whativer have ye rascally babies been up to now?”

“We’ve bought a lady, Michael,” explained Dolly, “and we want to take her home.”

“Well, if so be as she’s your lady, home with us she must go.”

Michael climbed down from his seat, and assisted the “lady” into the wagon.

“It’s lyin’ down in the wagon she must ride,” he said. “I’ll have no waxen image a-settin’ up on the seat, an’ me, like as not, arristed fer kid-nappin’ her! In she goes, and covered up wid these potaty-sacks she’ll be, till yez gets her home.”

“All right,” said Dolly, gleefully, “I don’t care. Put her in back, if you want to. But be careful, don’t muss up her hair too much!”

At last the “lady” was arranged, and Dick and Dolly clambered up to the seat beside Michael, and home they went.

“You see,” Dolly confided to Michael, who was her devoted adorer, “we went to an auction, and we bought the lady.”

“An auction! Yez childher! My soul! what will yez be afther doin’ next?”

“It isn’t hard to go to an auction,” said Dick, meditatively. “You just find what you want to buy; and then you see how much money you’ve got, and then you bid till you get up to it.”

“Yis, that’s a foine way!” said Michael, appreciatively. “An’ yez chose the wax scarecrow, did yez? Well, give it to me fer my cornfield, it’ll be foine to kape the burrds off!”

“You bad Michael,” said Dolly. “You’re just teasing us. Scarecrow! Why, she’s my new doll. I’m going to call her, – what shall we call her, Dick?”

“Lady Eliza Dusenbury,” said Dick, promptly, for he was always quick at choosing names. “And I say, Dolly, let’s rig her up, hat and all, you know, and stand her up in front of the front door, and ring the bell, and then hide, and see what Hannah’ll do!”

“All right; don’t you tell, Michael.”

“No, Miss Dolly, I’ll not tell.”

“And you help us, Michael, to get her out and get her fixed up, will you?”

“Yis, I’ll help yez, ye good-fer-nothin’ shcamps.”

When Michael indulged in calling them names, the twins knew he was very good-natured indeed, so they anticipated great fun.

When they reached Dana Dene, the two children jumped down from the wagon and ran into the house. It was easy enough to get in unnoticed, and they went straight to Aunt Rachel’s room for clothing for the new friend.

Dolly selected a pretty street suit of dark-blue pongee, made with a coat and skirt. She found also a white waist, and a blue hat trimmed with cornflowers. This was really enough, but she added a veil and a small shopping bag. With these things, the twins hurried to the barn, where Michael had the Lady Eliza waiting for them in the carriage house.

Dolly dressed her, and it was surprising how distinguished she looked in Aunt Rachel’s costume. It seemed a very good fit, and the flower-trimmed hat was most becoming to the frizzled yellow hair.

On account of the scar on her cheek, Dolly put on the thin lace veil, which really added to her modish effect. Her arms, which were movable, were adjusted at an elegant angle, and the shopping bag was hung on her left wrist.

Pat had been taken into confidence, and when all was ready the children ran ahead to make sure that the coast was clear.

Discovering that Hannah and Delia were both in the back part of the house, they signalled to Michael, and he and Pat assisted Lady Eliza to the front door. Then Dolly adjusted her hands, and in the right one, which was extended, she placed a visiting card, taken at random from the basket in the hall. Then Michael and Pat went away, Dolly hid in some nearby bushes, and Dick, after a loud ring at the doorbell, flew, to join Dolly in her hiding-place.