"
Mrs. Clifford was sorry to see the look of distrust on the young face.
"Listen to me, little Flyaway. I think the man was in sport; he was
only playing with you, as Horace does sometimes, when he calls himself
your horse."
Flyaway said no more, but she pressed her eyelids together again, and
felt that she had been trifled with. Half an hour afterwards Prudy
heard her repeating, slowly, to herself, "Folks--does--tell--lies."
"Why, here she is," called Dotty from the piazza; "come, Fly; we're
going wheel-barrowing."
"Wait a minute, cousin Dotty," said Mrs. Clifford; "Flyaway must put
on a clean frock; she is not coming home with you, but you are to
leave her at aunt Martha's. I shall meet her there at dinner time."
"O, mamma, may I? I love you a hundred rooms full. Let me go bring my
_buttoner bootner_ quick's a minute."
Flyaway was not long in getting ready. She was never long about
anything.
"You said we might have all the money, we three--didn't you, grandma?"
asked Dotty again, at the last moment, thinking how glad she was
Jennie had gone home, and would not claim a share.
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