Alan giggled.

"You needn't be afraid, Mrs. Adams; the girls are glad to get off
on any terms."

"I'll tell you how 'tis, Mrs. Adams," said Jean, coming to the
rescue, rather to Polly's relief. "You see, it's such warm
weather, and the book wasn't real interesting, so we decided to
let it go till by and by. Do you think we're very dreadful?" And
she laughed up into Mrs. Adams's face, with perfect confidence in
her approval.

Mrs. Adams laughed too.

"I didn't really think you would carry out your plan for very
long," she said. "Polly takes Aunt Jane's words too seriously. In
old times, everybody read 'Pilgrim's Progress,' but it's going out
of fashion now, and--Whoa, Job! What are you doing?" she
exclaimed, as the carriage tilted to one side so unexpectedly that
Florence and Molly screamed a little.

Job, grieved at finding himself ignored and left out of the
conversation, had apparently determined to amuse himself in his
own way. He had meandered back and forth across the road, as was
shown by the serpentine character of his tracks; now, catching
sight of a tempting stalk of mullein by the fence, he had walked
across the gutter and was just stretching his head forward to
seize the coveted morsel, when Mrs. Adams interrupted him. Her
first impulse was to draw him back, but kinder feelings prevailed,