"She doesn't ever _seem_ to follow me, but all the same, she's always catching me doing something." "Then you _do_ risk doing what she tells you not to," said Floretta, with a saucy laugh. "Look here!" cried Arabella, "I don't know you, but I'm going to tell you something. I can't do one single thing I want to, neither can my papa or mamma. Aunt Matilda is little, and my papa is big. He says he was centre-rush on the college football team, but when Aunt Matilda tells him what to do, he says, 'Yes'm,' and does it. One of our neighbors at home says Aunt Matilda holds the purse-strings, but I don't know what that means. Her purse hasn't any strings on it." "Well, if it _had_, I'd cut 'em off," said Floretta, "so she _couldn't_ hold 'em." "You wouldn't if she lived at _your_ house," said Arabella. Floretta, in spite of her boldness, was more than half convinced. "Well,--perhaps I wouldn't," she said. "Why, what are you taking?" "Pills," said Arabella, counting out six very pink pills from a little bottle, and taking them, then making a horrid face. "You don't look sick," said Floretta, "but you're taking medicine." "Aunt Matilda says these are for my color," was the answer. "You haven't any; you're pale as a sheet," said Floretta. "That's why I take them," said Arabella, "and look! I've got some green ones I take," and six green pills followed the pink ones. "Why, what are those for?" gasped Floretta. "Ought you to take two kinds at the same time?" Arabella, determined to startle her new acquaintance, took a third bottle from her pocket, and swallowed three very large white pills. She was delighted with the effect that she had produced. Floretta sprang to her feet, and tried to snatch the bottle, but Arabella had put it in her pocket, and was holding the pocket together. She narrowed her shrewd little eyes, and smiled broadly. "Guess you couldn't take all that, and not feel queer!" she said. "I wouldn't wonder if you felt funny. _Do_ you?" asked Floretta. "Not _yet_," said Arabella. Floretta was getting tired of her caller. She hoped that she hadn't any more kinds of medicine that she could take. She wished that Dorothy would return and amuse Arabella. She would have run away from any one else, and rudely left her alone, but there was something so strange about this child that she feared her. She had a nervous feeling that if she turned to leave her, Arabella might snatch at her, and draw her back. She certainly did look odd. There was something catlike in the way in which she kept her eyes riveted upon Floretta. She looked as if, at any moment, she might spring at her! She was not thinking of doing anything of the sort, however. The truth was that she _did_ feel just a bit queer. Was it the three kinds of pills? She could not tell, but she began to feel as if she would be glad if she were at home. "I guess I'll go now," she said. "I think it must be time."