"Here she comes, baby! Catch now for Lydia."

The baby below, a tiny plump replica of Lydia, sat up with a gurgle of
delight and held up her arms as Florence Dombey, dangling unhappily,
upside down, on the end of the marlin cord, was lowered carefully into
the perambulator.

"And here I come. Watch me, baby!"

With a swing light and agile as a young monkey, Lydia let herself down,
landing with a spring of which an acrobat might have boasted, beside
the perambulator.

"There, sweetness!"--kissing the baby--"first we'll fix Florence
Dombey, then we'll start for home."

"Florence, home wiv baby."

"Yes, it's getting near supper time." Lydia tucked the still
hectically staring doll in beside her small sister, turned the
perambulator around and ran it along one of the little paths to the
sidewalk. She hoisted it to the sidewalk with some puffing and several
"darn its," then started toward the block of houses, north of the
pasture.

At the crossing she met a small girl of her own age, who carried a toy
balloon, and a popcorn ball.

"Hello, Lydia!" she cried. "It was a perfectly lovely circus!"