om, was so hemmed in by trees as to
be almost invisible.

Dotty spent a pleasant afternoon, after her furniture was in place,
arranging her little trinkets and pictures, and putting away things in
her cupboards and bureau drawers.

But every little while some errand seemed to call her across the hall,
and she couldn't help looking out to see if "that girl" had returned
yet.

The next day was Sunday, and Mr. Rose was at home.

"Well, Chick-a-dotty, you'll have a nice playmate in that little girl
next door," he said, as his daughter followed him round the house
looking after various matters.

"'Deed I won't, Daddy; she's horrid!"

"Why, why! what sort of talk is this? Do you know her?"

"No, but I've seen her, and she isn't nice a bit."

"Oh, I guess she is. I came out in the train last night with a man I
know, and he knows the Fayres and he says they're about the nicest
people in Berwick."

"Pooh! I don't think so. She's a prim old thing, and doesn't know B from
broomstick."

"There, there, Dotty Doodle, don't be hasty in your judgment. Give the
little lady a chance."

Later, Dotty and her father walked round the outdoors part of their new
domain.

"Isn't it pretty, Daddy!" exclaimed Dotty; "I'm so glad there are a lot
of flower-beds and nice big shrubs, and lovely blue spruce trees and
lots of things that look like a farm."

The Roses had always lived in the city, and to Dotty's eyes the two
acres of ground seemed like a large estate. It was attractively laid out
and in good cultivation, and Mr. Rose looked forward with pleasure to
the restful life of a suburban town after his city habits.

"There's that girl now!" and Dotty suddenly spied her neighbour walking
with _her_ father around _their_ lawn.

"So it is. I shall speak to him; it's only right, as we are next-door
neighbours, and we men needn't be so formal as the ladies of the
houses."

"I don't want to speak to her," and Dotty drew back. "_Don't_ do it,
Daddy, _please_ don't!"

"Nonsense, child! of course I shall. Don't be so foolish."

"But I don't want to; she'll think I'm crazy to meet her, and I'm not! I
don't want to, Father."

"What a silly! Well, if you don't want to see the girl now, run away.
I'm certainly going to chat with Mr. Fayre, and get acquainted."

* * * * *

Now the other pair of neighbours had, not unnaturally, been talking
about the newcomers.

"You see, Father," said Dolly as she