ought it was a bear."

"No, indeed; he is only a nice old dog who lives next door to me, so I
know all about him. Now tell me where you are going all alone?"

"I runned away," was the honest answer, "and I dess you better take
me home," she added, looking up confidingly into the pleasant face.

"Then you must tell me what your name is and where you live."

Carie could tell her name, but to the other question could only
answer, "Over there," pointing in the wrong direction with great
assurance. Her companion was puzzled; she felt certain some one was
alarmed at the disappearance of this dainty little midget.

"I'll ask Mrs. West if she knows anybody near here named Hazeltine,"
she said. "Come in and sit on the doorstep till I find out something
about you."

She was back in a moment. "I think I know now, you dear little thing!
It must be that lovely house I saw the other day."

For some minutes after Carie's flight Louise worked on, then
remembering her charge she discovered her absence. She ran to the gate
and looked up and down the street, she searched the garden and the
house, and finally burst in upon Aunt Zelie crying:

"I have lost her! I have lost her!"

The news spread in a moment; nothing else could be thought of till the
lost darling was found.

Carl ran in one direction, Sukey in another, and Bess flew over to ask
if by any chance Miss Brown had seen the runaway. Louise stood on the
porch, the picture of misery.

[Illustration: "A GIRL OF ELEVEN OR TWELVE HELPED HER UP AND
BRUSHED OFF HER CLOTHES."]

"You will never trust me again, _never_" she sobbed as her aunt came
out and stood beside her, looking anxiously up and down.

"I am sure you won't be so careless another time," Aunt Zelie said,
pitying her distress.

At this moment who should turn the corner but the small cause of all
the excitement, chatting away to her new friend, quite unconscious
that she was giving anybody any trouble!

"Why, Carie Hazeltine, where have you been?" cried Louise, drying her
eyes and running to meet her.

"I found her on Chestnut street--a dog had frightened her," her
companion explained, reluctantly releasing the plump hand she held.

"You are a naughty girl," said her sister, taking possession of her.
"You might have been run over, or something dreadful."

"I didn't det run over," Carie insisted indignantly.

"Well, say good-by, and 'thank you for taking care of me.' We are all
very much obliged to