"And a shaker," suggested one of the girls. "I didn't know before that Susy Parlin had such a bad sister."
This was too much. Dotty's head was on fire. She caught the girl by the shoulder, and shook her as if she had been a breadth of dusty carpeting; then ran away.
Which way she went she did not heed, and never stopped till she came to a dark pantry, which had been made without any windows, on purpose to keep out flies. The unhappy child threw herself, out of breath, upon the floor of this closet, her heart beating high with rage and shame.
CHAPTER XI.
JOHNNY'S REVENGE.
Dotty's cross behavior had entirely spoiled the pleasure of the evening for her two sisters. They felt, as they had felt years before, when they saw her, a mere baby, perched upon the wood-box, with her hands and feet tied—they felt that it was a family disgrace.
All these little boys and girls, who had never known before what Dotty's temper was, knew all about it now; they would talk of it to one another; they would go home and tell of it, and remember it forever and ever.
"And, O dear!" thought Susy, "they won't know she was born so, and can't help it."
For that this was the case, Susy firmly believed.