they were going out of the Elliotts' front gate, Laura Russell came
flying across the street.

"Where are all you people going?" she cried. "I know you're going to look
at a house. Which one?"

"The Bigelow house," said Marian, "and I'm almost sure Uncle Fred will
decide to take it. Come on with us; we're going all through it."

"No," said Laura, looking disappointed, "I don't want to go; and I don't
want the Fairfields to live in that house anyway. If they would only look
at that little cottage next-door to us, I know they'd like it ever so
much better. Oh, please, Mr. Fairfield, won't you come over and look at
it now? It's so pretty and cunning, and it has the loveliest garden and
chicken-coop and everything."

"I don't want a chicken-coop," said Patty, laughing; "I've no chickens,
and I don't want any."

"Our chickens are over there most of the time," said Laura.

"Then, of course, we ought to have a coop to keep our neighbours'
chickens in," said Mr. Fairfield; "and if this cottage is as delightful
as Miss Russell makes it out, I think it's our duty at least to go and
look at it. If the rest of you are willing, suppose we go over there
first, and then if we _should_ decide not to take it, we'll have time to
investigate the Bigelow afterward"

Marian looked so woe-begone that Patty laughed.