"Who, Mrs. Eland?"
"No, ma'am. My Alice-doll. I told her she should go with us. You see," said the smallest Corner House girl, "she was with us when we made the acquaintance of Mrs. Eland—Tess and me. And my Alice-doll liked her just as well as Tess and me. So there you are!"
"I see," agreed Mrs. Buckham, quite seriously. "You couldn't disappoint the child."
"Oh, no indeed!" said Dot. "I wouldn't want to! You see—she's not very strong. She hasn't been since that time she was buried alive."
"Buried alive!" gasped the lady in horror and surprise.
"Yes, ma'am. With the dried apples."
"Buried with dried apples?" repeated Mrs. Buckham, her wonder growing. "What for?"
"It was a most awful cat's-triumph," said Dot, shaking her head, and very, very solemn, "and it makes my Alice-doll very nervous even to hear it talked about. If she were here I wouldn't mention it——"
"What? What did you say, child?" gasped Mrs. Buckham. "About a cat, I mean, my dear?"
"She means 'catastrophe,'" said Tess, coming to the rescue. "I really wish, Dot Kenway, that you wouldn't use words that you can't use!"