"I don't want to," insisted Stella; "I'll stay with one of you,
anyway."

"All right," said Midget, "and we'll take turns in doing the
talking. This is Mrs. Clarke's house; shall I talk here?"

"Yes," said Molly, "and I'll help you; and if Stella doesn't want
to say anything, she needn't."

The three girls with their baskets skipped along the flower-
bordered walk to Mrs. Clarke's front door and rang the bell. The
white-capped maid, who answered the door, listened to their
inquiries for Mrs. Clarke, looked curiously at the bottles, and
then said: "Mrs. Clarke is not at home."

"Are you sure?" said Marjorie, in a despairing voice. It seemed
dreadful to lose a sale because the lady chanced to be out.

"Yes," said the maid shortly, and closed the door in the very
faces of the disappointed children.

Troubled, but not disheartened, the girls walked back along the
path, a little less gayly, and trudged on to the next house.

Here the lady herself opened the door.

"Do you want to buy some pennyroyal extract?" began Marjorie, a
little timidly, for the expression on the lady's face was not at
all cordial.