“I don't know as he'd like to have anything quite so nice,” said Mrs. Bolton coldly. “I don't know as he has anything to say about it,” said Annie, mimicking Mrs. Bolton's accent and syntax. They both meant Mr. Peck. Mrs. Bolton turned away to hide her pleasure in Annie's audacity and extravagance. “Want I should carry 'em?” she asked, when they were out of the store. “No, I can carry them,” said Annie. She put them where Idella must see them as soon as she woke. It was late before she slept, and Idella's voice broke upon her dreams. The child was sitting up in her bed, gloating upon the dress and hat hung and perched upon the chair-back in the middle of the room. “Oh, whose is it? Whose is it? Whose is it?” she screamed; and as Annie lifted herself on her elbow, and looked over at her: “Is it mine? Is it mine?” Annie had thought of playing some joke; of pretending not to understand; of delaying the child's pleasure; playing with it; teasing. But in the face of this rapturous longing, she could only answer, “Yes.” “Mine? My very own? To have? To keep always?” “Yes.” Idella sprang from her bed, and flew upon the things with a primitive, greedy transport in their possession. She could scarcely be held long enough to be washed before the dress could be put on. “Be careful--be careful not to get it soiled now,” said Annie. “No; I won't spoil it.” She went quietly downstairs, and when Annie followed, she found her posing before the long pier-glass in the parlour, and twisting and turning for this effect and that. All the morning she moved about prim and anxious; the wild-wood flower was like a hot-house blossom wired for a bouquet. At the church door she asked Idella, “Would you rather sit with Mrs. Bolton?” “No, no,” gasped the child intensely; “with _you_!” and she pushed her hand into Annie's, and held fast to it. Annie's question had been suggested by a belated reluctance to appear before so much of Hatboro' in charge of the minister's child. But now she could not retreat, and with Idella's hand in hers she advanced blushing up the aisle to her pew. XXII.