"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,--not still enough, though, to
give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),--and
I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?"

Fly thought it would.

A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to
face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak.

"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so--so uneasy,
that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take--I mean, are
you willing--"

"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed
lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at
him.

"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly
to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly
in the seat.

"How do you do, little one? What is your name?--_Flyaway_?--Well, you
look like it. We saw you were a darling, clear across the aisle. And you
have a kind brother, I know."

At these words Fly, for want of some answer to make, sprang forward and
kissed Horace on the bridge of the nose.

"There, you've knocked off my cap."