disappeared.

* * * * *

The two D's stole from their rooms, after Liddy bade them good-night,
and sat on the top stair, whispering.

"Why did you open your window just now, Donald?"

"Why, because I wanted to look out, of course."

"Now, Don, I know better. You coughed, just to let Uncle know that you
were around, if there should be any trouble. You know you did."

"Well, what if I did?" admitted Donald, unwillingly. "Hark!" and he
sprang up, ready for action. "No, he's back. It's Uncle. I say, Dorry,
it will come hard on us to stay on this side of the hedge, like sheep. I
wonder how long it will last."

"Goodness knows! But he didn't say we couldn't go to the Danbys'. I
suppose that's because we can get there by going round the back way."

"I suppose so," assented Donald. "So long as we keep off the public
road, it's all right."

"How queer!"

"Yes, it _is_ queer," said Donald. "However, Uncle knows best."

"Dear me, how good we are, all of a sudden!" laughed Dorry; but she
kissed Donald soberly for good-night, and after going to bed lay awake
for at least fifteen minutes,--a great while for her,--thinking over the
events of the day and evening.

CHAPTER VII.

THE DANBYS.

WHO were the Danbys?

They were the Reeds' nearest neighbors, and no two households could be
more different. In the first place, the Reeds were a small family of
three, with four servants; the Danbys were a large family of twelve,
with no servants. The Reeds had a spacious country mansion, rich old
furniture, pretty row-boats, fine horses, carriages, and abundant
wealth; the Danbys had a little house, poor old furniture, one cow, five
pigs, one home-made scow, one wheelbarrow, and no money, excepting the
very moderate income earned by the father of the family and his eldest
boy. There the great contrast ended. The Danbys were thoroughly
respectable, worthy and cleanly; the parents, kind and loving souls,
could read and write, and the children were happy, obedient and
respectful. To be sure, it would have been very hard for the best
schoolmaster of the county to parse some of Mrs. Danby's fluent
sentences, or to read at a glance Mr. Danby's remarkable penmanship. But
that same learned instructor would have delighted in the cleverness of
the sons and daughters, had he been so fortunate as to direct their
studies. True, the poor little Danbys had enjoyed but a scant and broken
schooling; but th