Fly's tears weighed a pound with him, even when it only wet her eyelashes, and wasn't heavy enough to drop.
"Well, there, darling, you just sit still,--not still enough, though, to give you a pain (Fly always said it gave her a pain to sit still),--and I'll bring the girls and dollie over here to you. Will that do?"
Fly thought it would.
A dreadful fit of bashfulness came over Horace, when he stood face to face with the black-eyed lady and her daughters, and tried to speak.
"I've got a little girl travelling with me, ma'am; she's so--so uneasy, that I don't know what to do with her. Will you let me take--I mean, are you willing--"
"Bring her over here, and we will try to amuse her," said the black-eyed lady, pleasantly; but Horace was sure he saw the oldest girl laughing at him.
"It's no fun to go and make a fool of yourself," thought he, leading Fly to the new acquaintances, and standing by as she settled herself shyly in the seat.
"How do you do, little one?
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