Dotty Dimple at Play | Page 9

carriage had been seen
standing at Mr. Parlin's door; who had gone away in it nobody could
tell.
Dotty paced the pavement with restless steps, her mind agitated by a
thousand wild fancies: Grandma Read never went anywhere; perhaps
she was locked up in the house, and Zip too. Norah was at Cape
Elizabeth; she had walked out to see her friend Bridget, the girl with
red hair; and, just as likely as not, she didn't ever mean to come back
again. Mother, and Susy, and Prudy had gone to Willowbrook, to
grandpa Parlin's--of course they had,--and left grandma Bead all alone

in the house, with nothing to eat. How strange! How unkind!
"Grandma!" she called out under Mrs. Read's window.
There was no answer. Dotty fancied the white curtain moved just a
little; but that was because a fly was balancing himself on its folds.
Grandma was not there, or, if she was, she must be very sound asleep.
O, dear, dear! And here were Dotty and her father come home a day
earlier than they were expected; and instead of giving the family a
joyful surprise, they had a surprise themselves, only not a joyful one,
by any means. How impolite it was in everybody, how unkind, to go
away! At first, Dotty had been alarmed; but now her indignation got the
better of her fears. When she did see Prudy again,--the sister who
pretended to love her so much,--she wouldn't take the presents out of
her trunk for ever so long, just to tease the naughty girl!
Meanwhile her father did not appear to be at all disturbed.
"Perhaps they have gone to the Islands, or somewhere else not far away,
to spend the day. It is now nearly two o'clock. You may go to the
Preble House with me, and take-your dinner, and then I will unlock the
house, and find some one to stay with you till night. Would you like
that? Or would you prefer to go at once to your aunt Eastman's? You
may have your choice."
Dotty reflected about half a minute. "I will go to aunt Eastman's, if you
please, papa."
This appeared to her decidedly the most dignified course. She would go
to aunt Eastman's, and she would not be in the least haste about coming
back again. She would teach her sisters, especially Prudy, that it is best
to be hospitable towards one's friends when they have been away on a
long journey. Her anger may seem very absurd; but you must
remember, little friends, that Dotty Dimple had now become a travelled
young lady; she had seen the world, and her self-esteem had grown
every day she had been away. Her heart was all aglow with love
towards the dear ones at home, and it was very chilling to find the door
locked in her face. She did not stop to reflect that no unkindness had
been intended.
As they drove to aunt Eastman's, her father observed that her bright
little face was very downcast, but supposed her sadness arose from the
disappointment. There are depths of foolishness in children's hearts
which even their parents cannot fathom.

Strange to say, neither Mr. Parlin nor Dotty had thought that the family
might be visiting at Mr. Eastman's; but such was the case. It was
Johnny's birthday, and his father had sent the carriage into the city that
morning for Mrs. Parlin, grandma Read, and the children. As for Norah,
Dotty was right with regard to her; she had walked out to the Cape to
see the auburn-haired Bridget.
"I'm glad Johnny was born to-day instead of to-morrow," said Prudy,
"for to-morrow we wouldn't go out of the house for anything, auntie."
"I can seem to see cousin Dimple," said Percy; "she'll carry her head
higher than ever."
Prudy cast upon the youth as strong a look of disapproval as her gentle
face could express.
"Percy, you mustn't talk so about Dotty. She is my sister. She isn't so
very proud; but if I was as handsome as she is, I should be proud too."
"O, no; she is very meek--Dimple is; just like a little lamb. Don't you
remember that verse she used to repeat?--
'But, chillens, you should never let Your naughty ankles rise; Your
little hands were never made To tear each uzzer's eyes--out.'"
"If she's cross, it's because you and Johnny tease her so," said Prudy. "I
think it's a shame."
Percy only laughed. He and Prudy were sitting in the doorway,
arranging bouquets for the dinner-table. Susy joined them, bearing in
her hands some dahlias and tuberoses.
"Why, Prudy," said she, "what makes your face all aflame?"
"She has been fighting for your little dove of a sister," replied Percy;
"the one that went West to finish