l for
her age. And all of my children have grown up so rapidly."

"I couldn't believe those young men belonged to you. And that tall,
pretty young girl."

Mrs. Underhill smiled and flushed and betrayed her pride in her eight
nice healthy children.

"I envy you some of your sons," Mrs. Dean went on. "I never had but the
two little girls."

They came in now, each with the promised nosegay, and full of delight.
They were round and rosy, and looked more like one's idea of a country
girl than little lilybud Hannah. But they were all eager now, and even
her cheeks were pink. They had talked themselves into friendship. And
Josie wanted to know if Hanny couldn't come and see them, and if they
couldn't have their dishes out and have tea all by themselves?

Mrs. Dean looked up at Mrs. Underhill, and replied: "Why, yes, if her
mother is willing. Saturday would be best, as you are not in school."

That was only two days off. Hanny's eyes entreated so wistfully. And the
Deans lived only three doors away.

"Why, yes," answered her mother with a touch of becoming hesitation.

Hanny was telling this eventful interview over to Jim as they sat on the
stoop that evening. Ben was reading a book, Jim was trying the toes of
his shoes against the iron railing and secretly wishing he could go
barefoot.

"And they have a real play-house up-stairs in one room. There's two beds
in it and two bureaus, and oh, lots of things! Josie has seven dolls and
Tudie four. Tudie gave two of hers away, and Josie has a lovely big wax
doll that her aunt sent from Paris. And a table, and their mother lets
them play tea with bread and cake and real things. And I'm to go on
Saturday."

Hanny uttered this in a rapid breath.

"Sho!" ejaculated Jim rather disdainfully. "They're not much if they
play with dolls. Now _I_ know some girls----"

The boys had been at Houston Street public school not quite a week. Jim
knew half the boys at least, already, and all the boys that lived on the
block. He wasn't a bit afraid of girls, either, though he generally
called them "gals."

"There's some living down the street, and Jiminy! if they haven't got
names! You'd just die of envy! Rosabelle May, think of it! And Lilian
Alice Ludlow. Lily's an awful pretty girl, too. And they wanted to know
all about you and Peggy."

"Did you tell her my name?" asked the little girl timidly.

"Well--don't you know you said you wished it was Anna?" Jim answered
slowly. "I just