"'He gave his angels charge concerning thee,'" murmured she. "Tell me, child, how thee ever got to the shore."
"O, the captain took us in a sail-boat! He called us crazy chickens, but said he didn't scold. I was the first one that saw the sail; and then Solly rowed us to it, and it took us in, just as wet as ever was. Johnny lost that paddle. So we got home; and, O, how my head aches!"
"What a strange, strange child to tell a story!" said grandma Read, shaking her head. "But I've seen thee before. I understand thy odd ways. Thee is deeply ashamed of such wicked conduct—that I am very sure. Thee must be aware, Alice, that it is only by the Lord's mercy thee is safe on dry land, instead of being drowned in the depths of the sea."
Dotty shuddered, and curled her crimson face more closely against the white kerchief.
"But I will not chide thee now. Thy mother will do what is right and proper when she comes home. But now thee must have a bowl of ginger tea, and go straight to bed."
Dotty made no objection. Indeed she was glad to find herself tucked warmly under blankets and coverlets, for she was still chilly, and her head grew worse continually. It was also a great relief to her that she had told the whole story. She knew her father would be sorely displeased; but he had never punished her in his life, and it was not likely he would do it now, while her head ached so dreadfully.
She wasn't going to tell anybody how sorry she was; but she had made up her mind to this—that she would never look at salt water again as long as she lived.