our ease; I was going for a drive, and longing for company. Flo's saving up for to-night."
"What happens, then—a ball?"
"A Christmas party at our hotel. There are many Americans there, and they give it in honor of the day. You'll go with us, of course? aunt will be charmed."
"Thank you! where now?" asked Laurie, leaning back and folding his arms, a proceeding which suited Amy, who preferred to drive; for her parasol-whip and blue reins, over the white ponies' backs, afforded her infinite satisfaction.
"I'm going to the banker's first, for letters, and then to Castle Hill; the view is so lovely, and I like to feed the peacocks. Have you ever been there?"
"Often, years ago; but I don't mind having a look at it."
"Now tell me all about yourself. The last I heard of you, your grandfather wrote that he expected you from Berlin."
"Yes, I spent a month there, and then joined him in Paris, where he has settled for the winter. He has friends there, and finds plenty to amuse him; so I go and come, and we get on capitally."
"That's a sociable arrangement," said Amy, missing something in Laurie's manner, though she couldn't tell what.
"Why, you see he hates to travel, and I hate to keep still; so we each suit ourselves, and there is no trouble. I am often with him, and he enjoys my adventures, while I like to feel that some one is glad to see me when I get back from my wanderings. Dirty old hole, isn't it?" he added, with a sniff of
