here was no use in standing idly thinking about it though, especially
as nothing of interest was occurring in the street just then; so Annie
turned away and began to wonder what she should do to amuse herself.
In the "best china closet" was a delicious cake. She had discovered
that the key of the inner cupboard, where it was locked up, was kept in
the blue vase on the dining-room mantel. She had been several times
"just to take a peep at the cake," she said to herself. Mrs. Conwell
had also looked at it occasionally, and it had no appearance of having
been interfered with. Yet, somehow, there was a big hole scooped in
the middle of it from the under side. The discovery must be made some
day, and then matters would not be so pleasant for the meddler; but, in
the meantime, this morning Annie concluded to try "just a crumb" of the
cake, to make sure it was not getting stale.

Having satisfied herself upon that point, and being at a loss for
occupation, she thought she would see what was going on out of doors
now. (If some little girls kept account of the minutes they spend in
looking out of the window, how astonished they would be at the result!)
At present the first person Annie saw was Lucy Caryl, who from the
opposite sidewalk was making frantic efforts to attract her attention.

"Come into my house and play with me," Lucy spelled with her fingers in
the deaf and dumb alphabet.

Annie raised the sash. "I can't, Lucy!" she called. "Mother said I
must stay in the house."

"Oh, do come--just for a little while!" teased naughty Lucy. "Your
mother will never know. She has gone away down town: I saw her take
the car. We'll watch the corner; when we see her coming, you can run
around by the yard and slip in at the gate before she reaches the front
door."

The inducement was strong. Annie pretended to herself that she did not
understand the uneasy feeling in her heart, which told her she was not
doing right. The servants were down in the kitchen, and would not miss
her. She ran for her cloak and hood--little girls wore good, warm
hoods in those days,--and in a few moments was scurrying along the
sidewalk with Lucy.

The Caryls lived in a spacious brown stone house, which exteriorly was
precisely like the residence of the Conwells. The interior, however,
was very different. Contrasted with the brightness of Annie's home, it
presented an appearance of cheerless and somewhat dingy grandeur. The
parlors, now