"Here is one that looks a little like it Any way, I can see a glass
window in there, on the floor."

A lady stood at a counter, folding a piece of green velvet ribbon. Dotty
determined to make friends with her; so she went up to her, and said, in
a low voice, "Will you please tell me, ma'am, if I'm the same little
girl that was in here before? No, I don't mean so. I mean, did I go into
the same store, or is this a different one? Because there's a boy going
to call for me, and I thought I'd better know."

Of course the lady smiled, and said it might, or might not be the same
place; but she did not remember to have seen Dotty before.

"What was the number of the store? The boy ought to have known."

"But I don't believe he did," replied Dotty, indignantly; "he never said
a word to me about numbers. I'm almost afraid I'll get lost!"

"I should be quite afraid of it, child. Where do you live?"

"In Portland, in the State of Maine. Prudy and I came to New York: our
auntie sent for us--I know the place when I see it; side of a church
with ivy; but O, dear! I'm afraid the stage don't stop there. She's at
Mr. Stewart's--she and Prudy."

"Do you mean Stewart's store?"

"O, no'm; it's a man she knows," replied Dotty, confidently; "he lives
in a blue house."