A story for girls in their 'teens, of absorbing interest from cover to cover.
n, Mrs. Peyton?" asked Margaret, always prepared for any whim of her whimsical neighbor. "Are you setting up a dog too?"
"No! nothing half so comfortable as a dog. A fox, or wolf, or hyena, or something of that kind. Don't be stupid, Margaret; I am not up to explanations to-day. A companion, simpleton! A Miss Fox or Miss Wolfe, I can't remember which. I don't think it was Miss Hyena, but it might be. It's an unusual name, but she is recommended as an unusual person."
"Mrs. Peyton! you said you never would try it again. And you know I am always ready to come and read to you."
"I know you are a little Fra Angelico angel, with your halo laid in your top bureau drawer among your collars, for fear people should see it; but I have a little scrap of conscience about me somewhere,--not much, only about a saltspoonful,--and if you came every day it would get up and worry me, and I can't be worried. Besides, the doctor ordered it, positively."
"Doctor Flower? has he been out again?"