"Oh, just the other side of the fork road," Suzanna replied, pointing
out the direction. "If you'll go on I'll run and get Mabel and then
catch up with you. She's that new little girl. Her folks haven't lived
here long."

"Very well."

In a short-time Suzanna returned, holding tight to little Mabel's hand.
"I told her mother we had enough to eat with us and that we'd take good
care of her. So here she is," said Suzanna.

Little Mabel looked up obliquely at Mrs. Procter.

"Her hair doesn't grow thick around her face," said Suzanna a little
apologetically; "and I told her mother to rub Gray's ointment into it,
like you did for the dog that came off in spots. The one Peter found,
you remember."

"It didn't do any good--" began Maizie.

Mrs. Procter plunged in to prevent further discussion about the
unfortunate dog. "Do you think you can walk quite a distance, Mabel?"
she asked.

Mabel put her finger in her mouth.

"Don't talk to her right away, mother," begged Suzanna. "She's a little
bit shy."

So they went on, little Mabel contributing no word to the talk. They