Granny wondered whether it would be polite to entertain her or not. But just then there was a crash and a splash; and Dot and the water-pail were in the middle of the floor.
"Here's a chance!" exclaimed Kit, pausing in the doorway. "Give us a hook and line, Granny: Dot's mouth is just at an angle of ten degrees, good for a bite."
"A wail, sure enough!" said Charlie. "Wring her out, and hang her up to dry."
"Oh, dear!" and Granny, much disconcerted, sat Dot wrong side up on a chair, and the result was a fresh tumble.
It was Hal who picked her up tenderly,—poor wet baby, with a big red lump on her forehead, and dismal cries issuing from the mouth that seemed to run all round her head.
"Stay out there till I wipe up," said Granny to the others. "Then I'll get Dot a dry dress. I never did see such an onlucky child—and company too. What will Flo say!"
For Florence came tripping up the path, knitting her delicate brows in consternation.
"Never you mind. There's a lady in the parlor who's been waitin'. Oh, my! what did I do with that floor-cloth?"
"A lady?"