their own sweet will, and you may be sure they made the most of the opportunity. Didn’t they steal sips of tea, stuff gingerbread ad libitum, get a hot biscuit apiece, and, as a crowning trespass, didn’t they each whisk a captivating little tart into their tiny pockets, there to stick and crumble treacherously, teaching them that both human nature and pastry are frail? Burdened with the guilty consciousness of the sequestered tarts, and fearing that Dodo’s sharp eyes would pierce the thin disguise of cambric and merino which hid their booty, the little sinners attached themselves to “Dranpa,” who hadn’t his spectacles on. Amy, who was handed about like refreshments, returned to the parlor on Father Laurence’s arm; the others paired off as before, and this arrangement left Jo companionless. She did not mind it at the minute, for she lingered to answer Hannah’s eager inquiry—
“Will Miss Amy ride in her coop ( coupé ), and use all them lovely silver dishes that’s stored away over yander?”
“Shouldn’t wonder if she drove six white horses, ate off gold plate, and wore