Her father took no notice of her at first, but went on talking with
Rollo's father. Lucy stood very patiently until, after a few minutes,
her father stopped talking, and said,

"Lucy, my dear, do you want to speak to me?"

"Yes, sir," said Lucy, "I wanted to ask you if you were willing to let
me stay here to-day and play with Rollo, if you do not go to the
mountain."

"I do not know," said her father, hesitating, and patting Lucy on the
head--"that is a new idea; however, I believe I have no objection."

Lucy ran back joyfully to Rollo, and after a short time, her father went
home. Rollo, however, did not feel in any better humor, and all Lucy's
endeavors to engage him in some amusement, failed. She proposed building
with bricks, or going up into his little room, and drawing pictures on
their slates, or getting his storybooks out and reading stories, and
various other things, but Rollo would not be pleased.

Rollo ought, now, when he found that he must be disappointed about his
ride, to have immediately banished it from his mind altogether, and
turned his thoughts to other pleasures; but like all ill-humored people,
he _would_ keep thinking and talking, all the time, about the thing
which caused his ill-humor. So he sat in a large back entry, where he
and Lucy were, looking out at the door, and saying a great many
ill-natured things about the weather, and his father's giving up the
ride just for a little sprinkling of rain that would not last half an
hour. He said it was a shame, too, for it to rain that day, just because