"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 said it so it sounded like Anna. And Lily said she'd seen you riding with father. I wish you'd walk down there," coaxingly. "I'll see if mother will let me." Hanny sprang up. "And put on a nice white apron," said Jim. "They're too old for Hanny," began Ben, looking up from his book. "Why, Lily's only eleven. And anyhow----" Jim didn't know just how to explain it. Lily had begged him that afternoon to bring his little sister down. To tell the truth she was very ambitious to know the Underhills. They must be somebody, for they kept horses and a carriage, and owned their house.