t when she got to the Stebbins's house, Matilda met her at the door
with a crestfallen air. "Only think," said she; "ain't it too bad?
Uncle Jared had to go to Ware to buy the horse, and we can't go to
Bolton."

Comfort looked at her piteously.

"Guess I'd better go home," said she.

But Matilda was gazing at her doubtfully. "Look here," said she.

"What?" said Comfort.

"It ain't mor'n three miles to Bolton. Mother's walked there, and so
has Imogen--"

"Do you s'pose--we could?"

"I don't b'lieve it would hurt us one mite. Say, I tell you what we
can do: I'll take my sled, and I'll drag you a spell and then you can
drag me, and that will be riding half the way for both of us,
anyhow."

"So it will," said Comfort.

But Matilda looked doubtful again. "There's only one thing," she
said. "Mother ain't at home--she and Rosy went over to grandma's to
spend the day this morning--and I can't ask her. I don't see how I
can go without asking her, exactly."

Comfort thought miserably, "What would Matilda Stebbins say if she
knew I took that ring when my mother told me not to?"

"Well," said Matilda, brightening, "I don't know but it will do just
as well if I ask Imogen. Mother told me once that if there was
anything very important came up when she was away that I could ask
Imogen."

Imogen was Matilda's eldest sister. She was almost eighteen, and she
was going to a party that night, and was hurrying to finish a
beautiful crimson tibet dress to wear.

"Now don't you talk to me and hinder me one moment. I've everything I
can do to finish this dress to wear to the party," she said, when
Matilda and Comfort went into the sitting-room.

"Can't I go to Bolton with Comfort Pease, Imogen?" asked Matilda.

"I thought you were going with Uncle Jared--didn't mother say you
might? Now don't talk to me, Matilda."

"Uncle Jared's got to go to Ware to buy the horse, and he can't take
us."

"Oh, I forgot. Well, how can you go, then? You and Comfort had better
sit down and play checkers, and be contented."

"We _could_ walk," ventured Matilda.

"Walk to Bolton? You couldn't."

"It's only three miles, and we'd drag each other on my sled."

Imogen frowned over a wrong pucker in the crimson tibet, and did not
appreciate the absurdity of the last. "I do wish you wouldn't bother
me, Matilda," said she. "If I don't get this dress done I can't go to
the party to-night. I don't know what mother would say to your going
to Bol