"Dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Dyce; so he set her down and dropped to all-fours
to peer about for the shining little implement, Phronsie getting down on
her knees to assist the search.
Alexia, seeing the trouble, deserted her knitting, and flew out of her
chair to help look for it.
"You little tyrant!" exclaimed Mr. Dyce, as she added herself to the group,
"to call Miss Mary over there! I should think it was quite bad enough to
have you Sundays, Alexia."
"Miss Mary thinks a great deal of me," said Alexia composedly. "Dear me,
what a plaguey little thing that needle is! Never mind, Phronsie, don't
feel badly. I guess--oh, here it is, and sticking straight up."
"And all this would never have happened but for your calling Miss Mary
away," observed Mr. Dyce, getting up straight again. "What a little
nuisance you are, Alexia!" All of which she had heard from him so many
times before that it failed to disturb her, so she went back to her seat in
high spirits, Phronsie hopping over like a small rabbit to a little cricket
at Polly's feet. At this there was a bustle among the girls.
"Sit next to me, Miss Mary," begged Silvia Horne, sweeping a chair clear.
"No, no," cried Amy Garrett, "she's coming here!"
"I call that nice," exclaimed Alexia decidedly, "when I asked her to come
across the room! I'm going to sit next to her of course.
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