Once Tess and Dot stood on their side of the fence, hand in hand, watching the three sisters on the other side playing with their dolls near the dividing line. The one with the curls looked up and saw them. It quite shocked Dot when she saw this pretty little creature twist her face into an ugly grimace.
“I hope you see us!” she said, tartly, to Tess and Dot. “What you staring at?”
The Kenways were amazed—and silent. The other two Creamer children laughed shrilly, and so encouraged the one who had spoken so rudely.
“You can just go away from there and stare at somebody else!” said the offended small person, tossing her head. “We don’t want you bothering us.”
“O-o-o!” gasped Dot.
“We—we didn’t mean to stare,” stammered Tess. “We—we don’t know any little girls in Milton yet. Don’t you want to come over and play with us?”
“No, we don’t!” declared the curly head. “We got chased out of that old place enough, when we first came to live here, by that old crazy man.”
“She means Uncle Peter,” said Tess to Dot.
“Was he crazy?” asked the wondering Dot.
“Of course he wasn’t,” said Tess, sturdily.