itude of extreme dejection. And Mr. Opp, shorn of the
dignity of his heavily padded coat, and his imposing collar and tie, and
with even his pompadour limp upon his forehead, failed entirely to give
a good imitation of himself.

As he sat thus, with one hand hanging limply over the back of the chair,
he felt something touch it softly, dumbly, as a dog might. Looking down,
he discovered Miss Kippy sitting on the floor, close behind him,
watching him with furtive eyes. In one arm she cradled the new doll, and
in the other she held his coat.

Mr. Opp patted her cheek: "Whatever are you doing with my coat?" he
asked.

Miss Kippy held it behind her, and nodded her head wisely: "Keeping it
so you can't go away," she whispered. "I'll hold it tight all night.
To-morrow I'll hide it."

"But I'm a business man," said Mr. Opp, unconsciously straightening his
shoulders. "A great deal of responsibility depends on me. I've got to be
off early in the morning; but I'm coming back to see you real
often--every now and then."

Miss Kippy's whole attitude changed. She caught his hand and clung to
it, and the terror came back to her eyes.

"You mustn't go," she whispered, her body quivering with excitement.
"It'll get me if you do. Daddy kept It away, and you can keep It away;
but Aunt Tish can't: she's afraid of It, too! She goes to sleep, and
then It reaches at me through the window. It comes down the chimney,
there--where you see the brick's loose. Don't leave me, D. Hush, don't
you hear It?"

Her voice had risen to hysteria, and she clung to him, cold and shaken
by the fear that possessed her.

Mr. Opp put a quieting arm about her. "Why, see here, Kippy," he said,
"didn't you know It was afraid of me? Look how strong I am! I could kill
It with my little finger."

"Could you?" asked Miss Kippy, fearfully.

"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Opp. "Don't you ever be scared of anything
whatsoever when Brother D.'s round. I'm going to take care of you from
now on."

"This me is bad," announced Miss Kippy; "the other me is good. Her name
is Oxety; she has one blue eye and one brown."

"Well, Oxety must go to bed now," said Mr. Opp; "it must be getting
awful late."

But Miss Kippy shook her head. "You might go 'way," she said.

Finding that he could not persuade her, Mr. Opp resorted to strategy:
"I'll tell you what let's me and you do. Let's put your slippers on your
hands."

This proposition met with instant approval. It appealed t