"We thought he
was a crazy man," presently said the latter, in a shamefaced way.
"Crazy! Why, what do you mean?"
"He came to the side door," explained Dimple. "Those were rolls of paper
on his back, Florence, and we got frightened and wouldn't let him in."
"You silly little geese! I see I must not leave you again."
"But everything else was all right," Florence informed her, "only I
burned my hand a little. I had almost forgotten it, Dimple."
"Then you don't want me to go away, altogether," said Mrs. Dallas.
"No indeed," said they both, in the most emphatic manner.
"You dearest, loveliest," continued Dimple; "it is too delicious to see
you again."
"And I didn't dream about the crazy man after all," said Florence, the
next morning.
CHAPTER VIII
Adrift
During this time Mr. Atkinson was not forgotten, and the two little
girls spent many a happy morning in his beautiful garden, for even the
small house which Mr. Dallas had built for Dimple, was not proof against
the attractions Mr. Atkinson's place had to offer. They were careful not
to venture beyond bounds, and kept in the walks and on the porches, but
one hot day they wandered down to where a fence marked the limits of the
place in that direction. Then came a steep bank sloping down to Big Run
which, a little further on, emptied into the river.
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