“Good morning, Cousin Eunice,” cried Mr. King gaily.  He could be merry with any one this day.  “Come on, this is a festal occasion, you see; Phronsie’s going downstairs for the first time.  Fall into line!”

“I’m not able to go down,” said Mrs. Chatterton, coming slowly out into the hall, “but I’ll stand here and see the parade.”

“Bully!” exploded Dick softly, peering up from the foot of the stairs.

Phronsie looked over Mr. King’s shoulder at her as she was borne down the stairs, and, putting out her hand, “I’m all well now,” she said.

“Yes, I see,” said Mrs. Chatterton.  Then she pulled up her white shawl with a shiver.  “It’s rather cold here,” she said; “after all, I believe I must get back to my room.”

Nobody noticed when she crept back, the hilarity now being so great below stairs.

“I certainly am losing ground,” she muttered, “every little thing affects me so.  I’ll step into Bartram’s office next time I go down town and set that little matter straight, since I’ve made up my mind to do it.  It never would do to let him come to the house.  Horatio would suspect something to see my lawyer here, and the whole household imagine I was going to die right off.  No, no; I must go there, that’s clear.  Then if it’s attended to, I’ll live all the longer, with nothing on my mind.”

Phronsie, meanwhile, was going around from room to room in a pleased way, and touching different objects gently “Everything’s new, isn’t it, Polly,” she said at last, “when you stay upstairs?  Oh! there’s my kittens in the basket,” pointing to a bisque vase on the table.

“Yes,” said Polly; “Mamsie brought it in here.  And we’ve some flowers; Alexia sent them over.  They’re out in the back hall; we saved them for you to put in yourself.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Phronsie, “that’s so good in you, Polly.”

“Don’t stop now,” cried Dick in disgust.  “Faugh! you can fix flowers any time.  Come out into the dining-room—­and you’ll see something you’ll like.”

Phronsie smothered a sigh, and turned slowly away from the kittens waiting in their basket for Alexia’s flowers.  “Come on!” shouted Dick, seizing her hand.  “You never can guess what it is, in all this world.”

“Is it a new dog?” asked Phronsie fearfully, whose memory of Dick’s latest purchase was not altogether happy.

“No,” said Dick, pulling her on, “better than that.”

“Don’t hurry her so,” said Polly.  “What have you got, Dick?”

“Now, do you mind, sir,” cried Jasper, “else well stop your pretty plan.”

“I won’t hurry her,” said Dick, slackening his gait.  “Well, here we are,” opening the dining-room door.  “Why, Jane has let it out!”

Phronsie fell back a step at this and tried to cover her feet with her gown, searching the floor for the “it.”

“Lookout!” cried Dick suddenly.  “There he goes!” And something whirred over Phronsie’s head.