"Well, my son," remarked Mr. Clifford, after a pause, "if your mother
gives her consent, I suppose I shall give mine; but it does not look
clear to me yet. One thing is certain, Horace; if you do undertake this
journey, you must live on the watch: you must sleep with both eyes open.
Don't trust the child out of your sight--not for a moment. Don't even
let go her hand on the street."

"I do believe Horace will be as careful as either you or I, Henry, or I
certainly wouldn't trust him with our last little darling," said Mrs.
Clifford.

His mother's words dropped like balm upon Horace's wounded spirit. He
looked up, and felt himself a man again.




CHAPTER II.

THE UNDERTAKING.


When Flyaway knew she was going to New York, it was about as easy to fit
her dresses as to clothe a buzzing blue-bottle fly. With spinning head
and dancing feet, she was set down, at last, in the cars.

"Here we are, all by ourselves, darling, starting off for Gotham. Wave
your handkerchief to mamma. Don't you see her kissing her hand? There,
you needn't spring out of the window! And I declare, Brown-brimmer, if