he suggested. "Would you, Mary'Gusta?"

Mary-'Gusta hesitated. "I'd like to very much," she said, "only--"

"Only what?"

"Only I've got to see to David and the dolls first. Couldn't I come up
to the store afterwards?"

The Captain answered. "Why, I guess likely you could," he said. "It's
straight up the road to the corner. You can see the store from the top
of the hill back here. Isaiah'll show you the way. But you can 'tend
to--what's that cat's name?--Oh, yes, David--you can 'tend to David
right off. Isaiah'll give the critter his breakfast, and the dolls can
wait 'til noontime, can't they?"

Mary-'Gusta's mind was evidently divided between inclination and duty.
Duty won.

"They ain't dressed yet," she said, gravely. "And besides they might
think I'd gone off and left 'em and be frightened. This is a strange
place to them, same as it is to me and David, you know. None of us have
ever been visitin' before."

So it was decided that she should wait until her family had been given
parental attention, and come to the store by herself. The partners left
for their place of business and she and Mr. Chase remained at the house.
Her first act, after leaving the table, was to go to the barn and return
bearing the cat in her arms. David ate a hearty breakfast and then,
after enduring a motherly lecture concerning prudence and the danger of