--

"A flat iron, if you please."

He put several before me, and after making a show of testing them on
the end of my comforter, I selected one at random. I know that I did
not do it with half the air which the little grey-beavered lady had
thrown over the proceeding, but I hardly deserved the scornful tone in
which she addressed no one in particular with the remark, "He has no
business with flat irons. He's only a boy."

She evidently expected no reply, for without a pause she proceeded to
count out five farthings on to the counter, saying as she did so, "A
frying-pan, a gridiron, a dish, and two plates, if you please." On
which, to my astonishment, miniature specimens of these articles, made
of the same material as the flat irons, were produced from the box
whence those had come. I was so bewildered by the severity of the
little lady's remarks, and the wonderful things which she obtained for
her farthings, that I dropped my remaining seven on to the shop floor,
and was still grubbing for them in the dust, when the children having
finished their shopping, came backwards off the seats as usual. They
passed me in the doorway, hand in hand. The little lady with the white
beaver was next to me, and as she passed she gave a shy glance, and
her face dimpled all over into smiles. Unspeakably pleased by her
recognition, I abandoned my farthings to their fate, and jumping up, I
held out my dusty hand to the little damsel, saying hastily but as
civilly as I could, "How do you do? I hope you're pretty well. And oh,
please, _will_ you be my sister?"

Having once begun, I felt quite equal to a full explanation of my
position and the prospect of toys and treats before us both. I was
even prepared, in the generous excitement of the moment to endow my
new sister with a joint partnership in the possession of Rubens, and
was about to explain all the advantages the little lady would derive
from having me for a brother, when I was stopped by the changed
expression on her pretty face.

I suppose my sudden movement had startled her, for her smiles vanished
in a look of terror, as she clung to her companion, who opened wide
her eyes, and shaking her grey beaver vehemently, said, "We don't know
you, Boy!"

Then they fled to the side of the old man-servant as fast as their
white-gaitered legs would carry them.

I watered the dusty floor of the shop with tears of vexation as I
resumed my search for the farthings, and having found them