of things in New York to amuse them. Horace must come without fail; for
the little girl-cousins always depend so much upon him.'"

A smile rose to Horace's mouth; but he rubbed it off with his napkin. It
was his boast that he was above being flattered.

"But why not have Grace go, too, to keep them steady?" said Mr.
Clifford, bluntly.

Horace applied himself to his buckwheat cakes in silence, and looked
rather gloomy.

"Why, I suppose, Henry, it would hardly be safe to send Grace, on
account of her cough."

"I'm so sorry you asked Dr. De Bruler a word about it, mamma; but I
suppose I must submit," said Grace, with a face as cloudy as Horace's.

"Horace, my son, do you really feel equal to the task of taking this
tuft of feathers to New York?"

"I don't know why not, father; I'm willing to try."

"Horace has good courage," said Grace, shaking her auburn curls like so
many exclamation points. "I never could! I never would! I'd as soon have
the care of a flying squirrel!"

"Hollis never called me a _squirl_," said Fly, demurely. "I've got two
brothers, and one of 'em is an angel, and the other isn't; but Hollis
is _'most_ as good as the one up in the sky."