"My dear little girl," said she, very gently, "I desire you to spend the rest of the morning alone. You need not talk or play with either of your sisters. You may think. When the bell rings you may come to dinner; and after dinner I would like to see you in the nursery."
In half an hour Dotty had such a look of heartache in her face that Prudy longed to comfort her, only speech was forbidden. The little creature was out in the front yard, poking dirt with a stick, and secretly wondering if she could make a hole deep enough to lie down in and die.
CHAPTER II.
A SAD STORY.
After dinner, Mrs. Parlin was seated on the lounge in the nursery, looking very sad. Raising her eyes, she saw Dotty standing before her, twisting a corner of her apron. The child had entered as quietly as her own shadow, and her mother had not heard a footfall.
"My dear little girl, I am going to tell you a story."
"Yes, 'm."
Dotty looked steadily at her finger-nails.
"A true story about a child who let her temper run away with her."