"DOTTY DIMPLE, YOU HERE?""DOTTY DIMPLE, YOU HERE?"
It mattered little to Dotty, after this, what happened. She cared nothing about the elegant masters and misses who dropped in to dinner, though Prudy was too frightened to speak; nothing about the paroquets, and dried butterflies, and Japanese canoes she pretended to look at; nothing about the chatting and laughing, and very little about the Christmas plum-pudding, the oyster-pies, and ice cream. Dotty had no heart for any of these things. She was thinking continually, "Where are those rings?"
Fly did not dine, and Dotty had begged to stay with her.
"No," said Mrs. Pragoff, patting Miss Dimple's cheek with her dainty hand, which did not look as if it had ever been soiled with anything coarser than rose leaves; "I am glad to see you so kind to your dear little cousin; but she is asleep on my bed, and does not need you."
Prudy sat at her hostess's right hand, and in spite of her bashfulness, was as happy a child as ever broke a wish-bone. No one who has not had the care of a family can imagine the relief she felt now the cooking was off her mind. But Dotty was wringing her hands under the table-cloth, and thinking, "I don't want to see anybody. My heart is certainly broken."
"Why, Dot, what's the matter? What are you scowling at so?" said Horace, in a low tone.
Upon that Dotty began to smile. No one must know her heart was broken, for fear the question might arise, "What broke it?" Of course her smile was a make-believe, nothing more nor less than a simper. The large boy across the table looked at her in surprise. "Handsome as a picture," thought he, "but no brains."
"O, my sorrows! What'll I do? I can't remember whether I put those rings in my blue pocket, or carried 'em up stairs. Seems to me I dropped 'em in a salt-cellar. No; I thought I'd lay 'em in a book, but we flew round so when Fly was sick, that I shouldn't wonder if they got into the wood-box."
All the while Dotty went on simpering and saying, "If you please, sir," every time a dish was passed her. Her singular behavior surprised Horace, and when she took three olives, which she very much disliked, and immediately afterwards tucked them under her plate, he said,—
"Dot, I believe you are crazy."
It was an unfortunate remark. A little more, and there would have been a scene at the table; but Dotty, with all her self-control, forced back the tears. "Wonder if he wanted to make me cry," thought she; "but I won't cry. And he needn't think he can make me 'mad' either. S'pose I'd show temper right before these people?"
On the whole, Dotty contrived to keep up appearances, and no one but Horace and the youth opposite noticed her much, or suspected her of being an idiot. But the moment dinner was over, she stole away from the party, and found her way up-stairs to Mrs. Pragoff's room. There, on the outside of the bed, lay Fly, half undressed, and still very pale.
"Gas-light makes folks lookgas-ly," thought Dotty, "but she isn't much sick, or Horace wouldn't have eaten any dinner. There, when I first got a peek at this bed-quilt, I thought it was so queer; and now I'm going to see what it's made of."
Instead of a common coverlet, the bed was adorned with two enormous crimson satin cushions stuffed with swan's down. The cushion on the lower half of the bed was two feet deep, to cover the lower part of the body, and the one at the upper part not quite so thick, for it was to cover the shoulders. Then a sheet of the finest linen was turned over at the top and sides, and buttoned on to the cushions. The pillows were of crimson silk, the bedstead enormously high, and carved all over with figures of gods and goddesses.
Dotty stood gazing with surprise, and almost forgetting her trouble.
"She must have brought it over from Poland when she ran away, only it's so heavy. But then I don't s'pose she ran on foot. Came in the night, in the cars, prob'ly. Poland's up by the North Pole. I'm going to ask auntie about it."
But the moment auntie came into her thoughts Dotty was wretched again. She went to a window, drew back the damask curtain, and gazed out.
"The night came on alone,The little stars sat, one by one,Each on his golden throne."
"The night came on alone,The little stars sat, one by one,Each on his golden throne."
"Those stars twinkle like auntie's rings. Let's see: one was full of little pieces of glass, about as big as raspberry seeds. I shouldn't think glass would cost much. And the other was red, like a drop of blood, with ice frozen over it. That can't be so expensive, should you think, as a string of beads?"
Dotty tried hard to comfort herself, but could not stay comforted.
"You don't s'pose auntie's jewels cost more than my papa is worth? How he must feel to be so poor! If he has to pay for those rings, we shan't get enough to eat. Have to live on crackers and olives. And when we come to the table, father will look at me, and say, 'This is on the account of your naughty conduct, child!' O, dear! I can't speak one word, for it will be true, what he says. Grandma Read will have enough to eat; Norah will set it on her end of the table. Grandma is rich; I've seen her counting over bills in her desk; but how could I ask her for any, when she'd look right in my eyes, and say, 'What was thee doing with other folks' rings on thy thumbs?'
"Well, I know 'twasn't right; but 'twas Prudy's fault some. If she hadn't told me not to so hard, IpersumeI shouldn't. What made her speak up, and get me started?
"O, did you ever see such a beautiful string of beads? One, two, three,—I guess there are a thousand."
Dotty threw the necklace over her head, and the air became as fragrant as a garden of spices.
"I don't mean to meddle with other peoples' things any more; mother has taught me better. But there's one thought keeps coming into my mind: Isn't it wicked to have so much jewelry? The 'postles didn't wear any, nor Job didn't wear any, nor Moses.
"Well, nor auntie don't, either. Nothing but a watch and wedding-ring. Horace says that's so queer.
"Now, what's the use of it, just to lock up away from themorths? I don't believe auntie knows how many rings there were in that casket!"
This was a new idea. Dotty's eyes began to sparkle. They would have made a jeweller's fortune if he could have put them in a gold setting, and sold them for sapphires.
"The rings are somewhere round. I'm sure I can find them; but if I can't, will it be very wrong not to tell, when 'twouldn't make the least difference, and auntie never wears 'em? Ought never to have 'em at all; ought to have the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits, instead of rings.
"Prudy would think 'twas awful not to tell; but Prudy can't say anything to me. Didn't she get mad yesterday, real, shaky mad? 'Twas a great deal wickeder for her than it is for me—her disposition is real good, and mine was born awful. So Prudy can't say a word to me about anything I do.
"And I declare, who wants to eat olives and fried pork? Prudy wouldn't like it any better'n I do. She wouldthinkshe'd tell, but p'haps she wouldn't any quicker'n me.
"All just for two old rings, that never did me any good, and didn't have much of a time keeping house, either."
"Dotty Dimple, you here?" said Prudy, appearing at her sister's elbow, like an accusing angel. "Why, I've been hunting you all over the house. You mustn't wear that on your neck; it is a rosary; it doesn't belong to you."
"Prudy little knows how my heart's broken," thought Dotty, "or she wouldn't talk about beads. And me wanting to go home so I could 'most fly, just to find those rings."
"I have been hunting for you," repeated Prudy. "Mrs. Pragoff sent a man over to Uncle Augustus's to find out whether they came to-night in the cars; but they didn't. There was a letter that uncle wasn't able; but they'll come to-morrow afternoon."
"That's splendid," thought Dotty; "now I'll have to-night and all to-morrow forenoon to hunt."
"And then Mrs. Pragoff said we might just as well stay here all night as to go home," continued Prudy.
"O, dear, dear! we're not going to stay here. Prudy Parlin? Why didn't you come and ask if I was willing?"
"I did hunt for you, Dotty, but I couldn't find you. I thought you'd like to stay. They are playing so beautifully down stairs. I'm just proud of Horace; he acts like a little gentleman."
"I don't care how Horace acts, and I don't want to play with people that have their hair frizzed. I want to go back to auntie's.'
"But you can't, Dotty. Mrs. Pragoff has sent to Mrs. Fixfax for our night-dresses."
Dotty rolled herself up in the curtain, and screamed into the folds of it.
"Why, Dotty, what am I going to do with you? Please come down, and behave."
"O, Prudy, I don't want ever to go down again. I don't want ever to see folks, or behave, as long as I live."
"But, Dotty, all these little boys and girls came here just to see us. It is our Christmas party. You'll mortify Mrs. Pragoff. You know how Fly mortified her this morning. Pleasedon'tbe contrary."
Dotty unrolled herself from the curtain with a triumphant smile.
"You needn't say anything, Prudy Parlin! You got mad your own self, I s'pose you know!"
Prudy's eyes dropped suddenly.
"But, Dotty, why do you want to go back to auntie's to-night?"
"I want to go for something particular. I—" Prudy's mouth was opening for another question. "Because I—-I've swallowed something the wrong way."
"O Dotty, not a pin!"
"No; what you s'pose? Guess I've done something to my windpipe. Wish you wouldn't talk."
Prudy, in spite of her vexation, could not help smiling at Dotty's fierce grimaces, of which she got a vanishing view as the child went into the curtain again.
"If we don't go home, Prudy, I'll have to go right to bed. I don't feel like sitting up."
"Then I must ask Mrs. Pragoff where we are to sleep."
And next minute Prudy was half way down stairs, thinking,—
"What's gone wrong? I never can find out by askingher. She don't think or care how impolite she is, and how hard she makes it for me."
It was a very brilliant party, composed of some of the most refined and accomplished little people in the city of New York. Such fine dresses and such die-away manners overawed Prudy. She did wish her mamma had sent a thin summer dress in the trunk. It was dreadful to have to wear woollen, high-necked and long-sleeved. It cost her a great effort to cross the room. She felt as awkward as a limping grasshopper in a crowd of butterflies. But reaching her hostess at last, she timidly whispered,—
"My sistersaysshe isn't very well, Mrs. Pragoff, and that's why she stays up stairs. If you please, perhaps she'd better go to bed."
Prudy was very much ashamed to say this; but politeness required her to make some excuse for wayward Dotty's behavior.
Of course Mrs. Pragoff went up stairs at once. At the sound of her steps, and the words, "You poor, forlorn little dear," Dotty came out of the curtain, looking as miserable as could be desired.
"I am so sorry, darling! I wished you to become acquainted with these nice little gentlemen and ladies."
"But I—I—it hurts me to talk, ma'am."
"Yourthroat, too? O, my love!" cried Mrs. Pragoff, seeing a dreadful vision, with her mind's eye, of two cases of scarlet fever. She was a childless widow, and children puzzled as well as interested her. She did not know what to make of Dotty's confused statement that she "wasn't sick and wasn't well," but undressed and put her to bed as if she had been six months old, resolving to send for the doctor in the morning.
"What have you on your neck, precious? O, that rosary. It is one of my curiosities. Do you fancy it?"
"Here is the box in which it belongs. I give you the box and the beads, my charming dear, for a Christmas present and a consolation. See the card at the bottom of the box:—
"'Life is a rosary,Strung with the beads of little deedsDone humbly, Lord, as unto Thee.'
"'Life is a rosary,Strung with the beads of little deedsDone humbly, Lord, as unto Thee.'
"I hope your life will be the most beautiful of rosaries, darling, and all your little deeds as lovely as these beads.
"And now, good night, and may the Christ-Child give you your dreams."
As soon as Dotty was alone, she covered her head with the bed-clothes, and made up faces. She wished she could push herself through the footboard, and come out at Portland. She never wished to set eyes on the city of New York again, or anybody that lived in it.
As Dotty lay tossing on her bed, she heard the laughing, and the lively music of the piano, and began to find she had missed a great deal by not going down stairs.
Horace and Prudy were getting a taste of fashionable society. True, Prudy did tire of the fixed questions, "How do you like New York? Have you been in the Park?" asked by girls in pink, and girls in blue, and boys in wondrous neck-ties, with hair parted very near the middle. She was astonished when Mrs. Pragoff proposed games. How could such exquisite children play without tearing their flounces and deranging their criêped hair? But games were a relief to Prudy. When she was playing she forgot her thick winter dress, and appeared like herself.
"I don't believe Dotty can get to sleep in all this noise. Here's a nice chance to slip out, and I'll run up and see."
She was not quite sure of the room, but the words, "Is that you, Prudy?" in an aggrieved voice, showed her the way.
"How do you feel, darling?"
"Feel? How'dyoufeel going to bed right after dinner?"
"But you said you were sick."
"Well, yes; my—windpipe; but that's done aching. I can talk now. You get my clothes, and I'll dress and go down stairs."
"Why, Dotty, I've excused you to Mrs. Pragoff, and it wouldn't be polite to go now."
"Why not? Mother went down once with her head tied up in vinegar. Besides, it shakes me all over to hear such a noise. And it's not polite to stay away when the party's some of it for me."
Prudy resigned herself to this new mortification, and helped the child dress.
Dotty went down stairs with such an appearance of restored health, that Mrs. Pragoff was quite relieved, and gave up her fear of scarlet fever. But Miss Dimple's friends were all sorry, half an hour afterwards, that she had not staid in bed.
Among other games, they played "Key to Unlock Characters;" and here she proved herself anything but polished in her manners. The key coming to her as "the girl with the brightest eyes," she was told, in a whisper, to give it to the person of whom she had such or such an opinion. The little boys were interested to know which one of them would get it, for it was usually considered a compliment. But Dotty did not notice any of the boys; she quickly stepped up to a young girl with frizzes of hair falling into her eyes, and gay streamers of ribbons flying abroad. Little miss took the key with an affected smile and a shake of her shaggy locks, never doubting she was receiving a great honor.
But when, at the close of the game, the players explained themselves, Mallie Lewis was startled by these words from the little Portland girl:—
"I was told to give the key to the most horrid-looking person in the room, andI did so!"
Dotty had not stopped to reflect that "the truth should not be spoken at all times," and is often out of place in games of amusement. But to do her justice, she was ashamed of her rudeness the moment the words were spoken. Prudy was blushing from the roots of her hair to the lace in her throat. "Why hadn't Dotty given the key to Horace or herself? Then nobody would have minded."
Ah, Prudy, your little sister, though more brilliant than you are, has not your exquisite tact.
Mrs. Pragoff tried to laugh off this awkward blunder, but did not succeed. The moment Dotty could catch her ear, she said, in a low tone,—
"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Pragoff-yetski. Will it do any good to go and tell her she made me think of a Shetland pony?"
Mrs. Pragoff laughed, and thought not. But afterwards she took Mallie into a corner to show her some "seven-years" African flowers, and said,—
"Mallie, dear, I wish you wouldn't veil those bright eyes under such fuzzy little curls. That was why you got the key. Dotty Dimple isn't used to seeing young ladies look like Shetland ponies."
Mallie's face brightened, or that part of it which was in sight. O, it was only her hair the country child called horrid! After this she actually allowed Dotty to sit beside her on the sofa, and look at the fan which Mrs. Pragoff said Marie Antoinette had once owned. Miss Dimple was remarkably polite and reserved.
"Safe as long as she stays in a corner," thought Horace; and he took care to keep her supplied with books and pictures.
He enjoyed the party, not being overawed, as poor Prudy was. Wasn't he as good as any of them? Better than most, for he didn't have to use an eye-glass. "These fellows are got up cheap. What do hair-oil and perfumery amount to?"
The boys, in their turn, looked at Horace, and decided he was "backwoodsy." Nobody who sported a silver watch could belong to the "first circles." However, when he allowed himself to be "Knight of the Whistle," and hunted for the enchanted thing which everybody was blowing, and found at last it was dangling down his own back from a string, and they were all laughing at him, he was manly enough not to get vexed. That carried him up several degrees in every one's esteem. In his own, too, I confess.
As for Prudy, the girls could not help seeing she had no style; but the boys liked her, for all that. If they had only known what their hostess thought, there would have been some surprise.
"These little misses look to me like bonnet flowers made out of book-muslin. Prudy, now, is a genuine, fresh moss rose bud. There is no comparison, you dear little Prudy, between artificial and natural flowers!"
Mrs. Pragoff was called a "finished lady." She was acquainted with some of the best people in Europe and America. What could she see in Prudy? The child was not to be compared with these exquisite little creatures, who had maids to dress them, and foreign masters come to their houses and teach them French, music, and dancing. Why, Prudy did not know French from Hebrew; she had only learned a few tunes on the piano, and could not sing "operatic" to save her life; her dancing was generally done on one foot. What was the charm in Prudy?
Just one thing—Naturalness. She was not made after a pattern.
"It was a great risk inviting them here, and that youngest one seems very delicate; but let what will happen, I make a note of this: I have seen four live children."
Live children indeed! And here comes one of them now—the unaccountable Fly, darting into the room very unexpectedly, rubbing her eyes as she runs.
"Why, Topknot!" cried Horace, making a dash upon her; for her frock was unfastened, and slipping off at the shoulders, and her head looked like a last year's bird's nest.
"Scusa me," whispered the "live child," very much astonished to see such a crowd.
"But you ought not to come down here half undressed, you little midget!"
"What if I wanted to ask you sumpin?" stammered the child, more alarmed by her brother's sternness than by the fire of strange eyes. "'Spec' I mus' have my froatgoggled; have some morepoke-rimeround it, Hollis!" added she, in a tone loud enough to be heard by half the party.
Think of mentioning "poke-rime" in fashionable society!
"Tell her she must dance 'Little Zephyrs,' or you'll send her right back," suggested Prudy, who was famous for thinking of the right thing at the right time, and so making awkward affairs pass off well.
"Yes, Fly, come out in the floor, and dance 'Little Zephyrs' this minute, or you must go back to bed."
Anything for the sake of staying down stairs. Hardly conscious of the strange faces about her, the child flew into the middle of the room, rubbed some more sleep out of her eyes, and began to sing,—
"Little zephyrs, light and gay,First to tell us of the spring."
"Little zephyrs, light and gay,First to tell us of the spring."
She seemed to float on air. There was not a bit of her body that was not in motion, from the tuft of hair a-top of her head to the soles of her twinkling boots. Now here, now there, head nodding, hands waving, feet flying.
"Encore," cried the delighted hostess. "Please, darling, let us hear that last verse again."
Mrs. Pragoff was curious to know what sort of jargon she made of the lines,—
"Where the modest violets grow,And the fair anemone."
"Where the modest violets grow,And the fair anemone."
Fly repeated it with an exquisite sweetness which charmed the whole house:—
"Where the modestviletsgrow,And thefairy men no more know me."
"Where the modestviletsgrow,And thefairy men no more know me."
"The fairies do all know you, darling." exclaimed Mrs. Pragoff, kissing her rapturously.
"Your feet are more light than a faery's feet,Who dances on bubbles where brooklets meet."
"Your feet are more light than a faery's feet,Who dances on bubbles where brooklets meet."
"There! Dancing on bubbles!" said Prudy aside to Horace. "That's just what I always wanted to call it, but never knew how."
On the whole it was a pleasant evening, and Mrs. Pragoff had no reason to regret having given the little party. Everybody went to bed happy but Dotty, who could not shut her eyes without seeing the blaze of two rings, which burned into her brain.
Fly slept in a little cot beside her hostess's bed. Mrs. Pragoff, poor lady, reclined half the night on her elbow, watching the child's breathing; but, to her inexpressible relief, nothing happened that was at all alarming. Fly only waked once in the night, and asked in a drowsy tone, "Have I got a measle?"
But just as Mrs. Pragoff was enjoying a morning nap, a pair of little feet went pricking over the floor, towards the girls' room, but soon returned, and a sweet young voice cried,—
"O, Miss Perdigoff, I can't wake up Dotty!"
"Can't wake her, child!"
"No'm, I can't; nor Prudy can't: we can't wake up Dotty."
Mrs. Pragoff roused at once, with a new cause for alarm.
"Why, what does this mean? Did you try hard to wake her?"
"Yes'm; I shaked her."
Mrs. Pragoff now remembered, with terror, that there had been a little trouble with Dotty's windpipe. Could she have choked to death?
Rising instantly, she threw on her wrapper, and was hurrying across the passage, when Fly added,—
"'Haps she'll letyouwake her; she wouldn't let me 'n' Prudy."
"You little mischief, is that what you mean? She won'tletyou wake her?"
"No'm, she won't," replied artless Fly; "she said she wouldn't bebovvered."
Mrs. Pragoff went to bed again, laughing at her own folly.
Dotty, it seems, was feeling very much like a bitter-sour apple. It had always been a peculiarity of hers to visit her own sins upon other people. Prudy did not suspect in the least what the matter was, but knew, from experience, it was safest to ask no questions.
"I'm going back to auntie's, this morning."
"Why, Dotty, Uncle Augustus and auntie won't be home till night. Mrs. Pragoff said she would take us to the Park and the Museum, you know."
"I don't care how much you go to parks and museums, Prudy; I want to be at home long enough to get my hair brushed and put away my things."
Prudy looked up in surprise; but the rousing-bell sounded, and both the little girls had as much as they could do to get ready for breakfast. When Mrs. Pragoff met them in the parlor, she saw two lovely dimples playing in Dotty's cheeks; for the child was old enough, and had pride enough, to conceal her disagreeable feelings from strangers. All very well, only she might have carried the concealment a little farther, and spared poor Prudy much discomfort.
Not that Prudy thought of complaining,—for really her younger sister's temper was greatly improved. For a year or two she had scarcely been known to get seriously angry, and Prudy did not mind a sharp retort now and then, or even an hour's sulks.
While Dotty sipped her chocolate from a cup so delicate that it looked like a gilded bubble, she was wondering how she could get home. She did not know the way, and could not ask any one to go with her without making up an excuse.
"I could say I am sick, but that wouldn't be true, and me eating muffins and honey. I'm afraid 'twasn't quite true last night. I did feel rather funny, though, in my windpipe, now honest."
There seemed to be no other way but to wait and go home with the rest of the children. Dotty tried to think there might be time enough, after all, to find the rings.
They started for the Park.
"May I depend upon you, Master Horace, to take the entire charge of your little sister!" said Mrs. Pragoff, fastening her ermine cloak with fingers which actually trembled; "I confess I haven't the courage; and I see you understand managing her perfectly."
Of course Horace always expected to take care of Topknot. He would gladly have done a much harder thing for a lady who was so polite, and appreciated him so well.
Mrs. Pragoff gave a hand to Prudy and Dotty, saying gayly, as they all five took a car for the Park,—
"'Sound the trumpet, beat the drum;Tremble, France; we come! we come!'"
"'Sound the trumpet, beat the drum;Tremble, France; we come! we come!'"
There was just enough snow to whiten the ground, but none to spare. Everybody was determined to make the most of it while it lasted, and the Park was full of people sleigh-riding. It was really a wonderful sight. There were miles and miles of sleighs of all sorts, shaped like sea-shells, cradles, boats, water-lilies, or any other fanciful things. The people in them were so gay with various colors, that they looked like long lines of rainbows. Many of the horses had silver-mounted harnesses, and on their necks stood up little silver trees, branching out into sleigh-bells, and sprinkling the air with merry music.
"See, children, let us ride in this beautiful sleigh; it is shaped like a Spanish gondola, and we ought to have music as we float."
"Fly can sing the 'Shepherd's Pipe coming over the Mountains,'" said Dotty; and forthwith the child began to warble the softest, sweetest music from her wonderful little throat. Dotty queried privately why it should be called the shepherd'spipe: how could a shepherd smoke while he sang?
"O, how beautiful!" said everybody, when the music ceased.
They meant that everything was beautiful. The air was so balmy, and the sky so soft, that you might fancy the sun was walking in his sleep, writing his dreams on the white clouds.
"Splendid!" exclaimed Fly, forgetting, perhaps, that she was not a flying-fish, and trying to dive head first out of the gondola.
"Tell me, children, if you don't think our Park is very fine?"
"Yes'm," was the faint reply in chorus.
"Why don't you say, 'We never saw the like before?'"
"O, we have, you know, ma'am," said Prudy; "it's just like riding round Willow-brook."
"Fie! don't tell me there's anything so beautiful in Maine! I expect you to be enchanted every step of the way. Look at this pond, with, the swans sailing on it."
"O, yes; those are beauties," cried Dotty; "I never saw any but cotton flannel ones before. But do you think the pond is as pretty as Bottomless Pond, Prudy, where Uncle Henry goes for pitcher-plants?"
"You prosy little creature," said Mrs. Pragoff, laughing; "I am afraid you don't admire these picturesque rocks and tree-stumps as you should."
Dotty thought this was certainly a jest.
"Pity there's so many. Why don't they hire men to dig 'em up by the roots?"
Horace smiled on Dotty patronizingly.
"They'll do it some time, Dot. The Park is new. Things can't be finished in a minute, even in New York."
Mrs. Pragoff smiled quietly, but was too polite to tell Horace the rocks had been brought there as an ornament, at great expense.
"I like the Park, if it isn't finished," said Prudy, summoning all her enthusiasm; "I know you'll laugh, Horace, but I like it better for the rocks; they make it look like home."
The ride would have seemed perfect to everybody; only a wee sleigh passed them, drawn by a pair of goats, and Fly thought at once how much better a "goat-hossy" must be than a "growned-up hossy, that didn't have no horns." She thought about it so much, that at last she could contain herself no longer. "There was little girls in that pony-sleigh, Miss Perdigoff, with a boy a-drivin.' 'Haps they'd let me go, too, ifyouasked 'em, Miss Perdigoff. My mamma don't 'low me to trouble nobody, and I shan't; only I thought I'd let you know I wanted to go, Miss Perdigoff."
Mrs. Pragoff laughed heartily, and thought Fly should certainly have a ride, "ahind the goat-horses;" but it was not possible, as the cunning little sleigh was engaged for hours in advance.
A visit to the Zoological Gardens comforted the little one, however, after she got over her first fear of the animals. There they saw a vulture, like a lady in a cell, looking sadly out of a window, the train of her grey and brown dress trailing on the ground. Horace thought of Lady Jane Grey in prison.
There was a white stork holding his red nose against his bosom, as if to warm it. A red macaw peeling an apple with his bill. Brown ostriches, like camels, walking slowly about, as if they had great care on their minds.
Green monkeys biting sticks and climbing bars. A spotted leopard, licking his feet like a cat. A fierce panther, looking out of a window in the same discontented mood as the vulture.
"See him stoop down," said Dotty; "he makes as much bones of himself as he can."
A horned owl, with eyes like auntie's when she looks "'stonished."
An eagle, with a face, Horace said, like a very cute lawyer.
A "speckled bear," without any spectacles. A "nelephant" like a great hill of stone, and a baby "nelephant," with ears like ruffled aprons.
An anaconda that "kept making a dandelion of himself."
A great grizzly bear hugging a young grizzly daughter.
"Who made thatgrizzle?" asked Fly, disgusted.
"God."
"Why did He? I wouldn't!—Miss Perdegoff, which does God love best, great uglygrizzlesor hunkydory little parrots?"
"O, fie!" said Mrs. Pragoff, really shocked; "where did a well-bred child like you ever hear such a coarse word as that?"
"Hollis says hunkydory," replied Fly, with her finger in her mouth, while Horace pretended to be absorbed in a monkey.
Mrs. Pragoff turned the subject.
"Tell me, children, which do you consider the most wonderful animal you have ever seen?"
"The lion," replied Prudy.
"The whale," said Dotty. "Which do you, Mrs. Pragoff?"
"This sort of animal, thatthinks," replied the lady, touching Dotty's shoulder: "this shows the most amazing power of all."
"You don't mean to call me an animal," said Dotty, with a slight shade of resentment in her voice.
"Why, little sister, I just hope you're not a vegetable! Don't you know we are all animals that breathe?"
"O, are we? Then I don't care," said Dotty, and serenely followed the others up stairs, "where the dried things were."
Next they went to Wood's Museum, and saw greater wonders still.
The "Sleeping Beauty," dreaming of the Prince, with lips just parted and breath very gently coming and going. Dotty would not believe at first that her waxen bosom palpitated by clockwork.
There were distorted mirrors, which Horace held Flyaway up to peep into, that he might enjoy her bewilderment when she saw her face twisted into strange shapes.
The Cardiff Giant, which Horace said "you might depend upon was a hoax."
An Egyptian dromedary, which Fly "just knew" had a sore throat; and a stuffed gorilla in "buffalo coat and leather gloves."
Then they had a lunch at Delmonico's, quite as good, Prudy admitted, "as what you found in Boston."
After this, to Dotty's dismay, they went to the Academy of Design, and criticised pictures.
The statue of Eve Horace regarded with some contempt. "No wonder she didn't know any better than to eat the apple! What do you expect of a woman with such a small head as that? Look here who do you suppose was Eve's shoemaker? Cain?"
"Shoemaker? Why, Horace, she's barefoot."
"So she is, now, Dot; but she's worn shoes long enough to cramp her toes."
"Strange I never noticed that before," said Mrs. Pragoff. "I think the sculptor ought to know your criticism, Master Horace."
"She's a woman that understands what a boy is worth," thought Horace, very much flattered. "Tell you what, I never saw a more sensible person than Mrs. Pragoff."
"Now, dears, shall we go to Stewart's?"
"O, no'm; please don't," cried Dotty. "Because," added she, checking herself, "their curtains are all down; and don't you s'spose Mr. Stewart and the clerks have gone off somewhere?"
Mrs. Pragoff laughed, but, concluding the child was very tired, proposed going home; and, to Dotty's great joy, they started at once.
"I shall so grieve to part with you!" said Mrs. Pragoff, as they went along. "I wish you were mine to keep, every soul of you."
But Dotty noticed that while she spoke she was looking at Prudy.
Alas for the diamond and the ruby rings! New York is "a city of magnificent distances," and by the time the children were safely at home, there was a great stir through the house. Colonel Allen and wife had come. Too late now to think of hunting for anything.
"Where are my little folks?" rang Uncle Augustus's cheery voice through the hall; and in he came, not looking ill in the least. His eyes were as black as ever, and he carried just as much flesh on his tall, large frame. Somehow, he cheered one's heart like an open fire. So did Aunt Madge. There wasn't so much of her in size, but there was what you might call a "warm tone" over her whole face, which made you think of sunshine and fair weather. So in walked "an open fire" and a "ray of sunshine," and "took off their things." Of course there were laughing and kissing; and Fly, without being requested, hugged Uncle 'Gustus like a little "grizzle."
"Sorry I cried so 'bout you bein' sick. Didn't 'spect you'd get well."
"Beg pardon for disappointing you. How many tears, did you waste, little Crocodile? Why, children, you're as welcome, all of you, as crocuses in spring. But no; it's you who should biduswelcome. I understand you are keeping house, and auntie and I have come visiting?"
"O, no, no, no," cried Prudy; "we've got all over that; and I tell you, auntie, now you've come home, I feel as if an elephant had rolled right off my heart."
"Why, I hope nothing serious has happened," said Mrs. Allen, looking at the pile of nutshells Fly had just dropped on the carpet, and at Dotty's cloak, which lay beside Horace's cap on the piano-stool.
"Yes'm, there is sumpin happened," spoke up Fly from the floor, where she sat with "chestnuts in her lap, and munched, and munched, and munched." "I've had the fever, but I didn't die in it."
"She wasn't much sick, auntie; but it frightened us. Mrs. Fixfax rolled her up six yards deep in blankets, and we thought 'what is home without a mother?' And then, you see, I didn't know the least thing about cooking, for all I pretended. I tell you, auntie, it's very different not to have anybody to ask how to do things."
"Such messes, you ought to seen 'em, auntie," struck in Dotty, without the least pity.
"Pshaw! we didn't starve, nor anywhere near it," cried Horace. "I wouldn't say anything, Dot, for Prue worked like a Trojan, and you dawdled round with rings on your thumbs."
At the mention of rings, Dotty blushed, and stole a glance at Mrs. Allen.
"See, auntie," said she, taking off her rosary, "this is my Christmas present; but it doesn't make me a Catholic—does it?"
"How beautiful, my child! A full rosary of one hundred and fifty beads. It is called 'a chaplet of spiritual roses.' Red, white, and damask. Pray, who could have given it to you?"
"A lady that ran away from Poland. Now don't you know? Sleeps with a feather bed over her, covered with satin."
"Mrs. Pragoff? You haven't been to her house?"
"Yes'm, we did, and to her church in Trinity; and she made a party for us, and we staid all night."
"That's a remarkable joke," said Colonel Allen, rubbing his hands. "She must have had a bee in her bonnet with all these rollicking children round her."
"No'm, she never; but I had the nosy-bleed on thepew-quishonawful. Had to be tookened home. Didn't eat no supper."
"You don't tell me there was a scene in church," cried Aunt Madge, looking at Uncle Augustus, who rubbed his hands again, and laughed heartily. "How happened you to go, Horace?"
"It wasn't my doings, auntie. Topknot had been lying in a steam all night, and I told Mrs. Fixfax she wasn't fit to go out of the house; but no attention was paid to whatIsaid. Notice was served on me to take the little thing off visiting, and I had to obey. But I tell you I was thankful she didn't do anything worse than to bump her nose, though she did scream murder, and we followed her out in a straight line."
"And this transpired at Trinity Church," said Colonel Allen, intensely amused. "Rather severe for a woman who worships Saint Grundy."
"Saint who? I thought she was queer, or she wouldn't run away," said Dotty, much shocked.
"Fie, Augustus!" said Aunt Madge, who was laughing herself. "I wouldn't have had this happen on any account. Mrs. Pragoff asked me, before the children came, if I would let them visit her; but I gave her no decided answer; thought, perhaps I might go with them just to drink tea. But the idea of her taking them while I was gone! And her house so full of elegant little trifles! How much did Fly break?"
"Nothing, auntie," replied Horace. "I didn't let her stir but I was after her. I flatter myself I saved considerable property."
"There, Margery, don't mind it," said Uncle Augustus. "Mrs. Pragoff needed all this mortification to humble her pride. Come here, Fly; here's a bonbon for you. They say you are going about doing good without any more intention of it than the goose that saved Rome."
"That reminds me to inquire," said Aunt Madge, "if Fly's blind girl came that day?"
"Yes, auntie, and she was so sorry you were gone; but they will be here again to-morrow."
"It was too bad to disappoint her," said Aunt Madge, with such lovely pity in her face that Prudy seized one of her hands and kissed it.
"I tell you what it is," broke in Dotty; "I always thought Mrs. Pragoff must be queer as soon as I heard she came from Poland, where grandma's cropple-crown hen came from; don't you remember, Prudy? the one that hatched the duck's eggs. But I didn't know she worshipped things. Only I noticed that she didn't buy any black pins when those pitiful little boys ran after us, and said, 'O, lady! please, lady!' I thought that was mean."
"Miss Dotty Dimple, come sit on my knee, and let me explain. Mrs. Pragoff is no heathen. She only loves to dress elegantly, and your auntie and I sometimes think she cares too much about it, and about what other people say. That was what I meant by her 'worshipping Saint Grundy;' but it was ill-natured of me to criticise her. As for the black pins, she is a remarkably benevolent woman, Puss; but she can't buy black pinsallthe time; you may set that down as a fact. Why, Fly, what now?"
The child had snapped her bonbon, and, instead of candy, had found a red paper riding cap trimmed with gold fringe; with this on her head, she was climbing the drop-light, à la monkey. Fortunately the gas had been lighted only in the chandelier; but three inches more, and Fly's gold tassels would have been on fire. Uncle Augustus rose in alarm; but Horace laughed, believing the little witch could be trusted to keep out of fire and water.
After dinner, as they were returning to the parlor, Uncle Augustus said to his wife,—
"Between us, Margery, I don't believe you'd dare invite that little will-o'-the-wisp here again without her mother."
"Never," returned auntie, laughing,—