Here Dotty broke down completely, and, seizing her father's shirt-bosom in both her grimy hands, she buried her face in it, and sprinkled it with tears of ink.
There was great surprise throughout the house when Dotty's arrival became known.
"We didn't know how to live without you any longer," said Prudy; "and tomorrow Thanksgiving Day."
"But I never should have come up," said Dotty, "if I hadn't heard mamma talk about loving me just the same; I never could have come up."
"Excuse me for smiling," said Prudy; "but you look as if you had fallen into the inkstand. It is so funny!"
Dotty was not at all amused herself; but after she was dressed in clean clothes, she felt very happy, and enjoyed her supper remarkably well. The thought that they "didn't know how to live without her" gave a relish to every mouthful.
It was a delightful evening to the little wanderer. The parlor looked so cheerful in the rosy firelight that Dotty thought she "would like to kiss every single thing in the room." It was unpleasant out of doors, and the wind blew as if all the people in the world were deaf, and must be made to hear; but Dotty did not mind that. She looked out of the window, and said to Prudy,—
"Seems as if the wind had blown out all the stars; but no matter—is it?
It is all nice in the house."
Then she dropped the curtain, and went to sit in her mother's lap. Not a word of reproach had been uttered by any one yet; for it was thought the child had suffered enough.
"Mamma," said Dotty, laying her tired head on her mother's bosom, "don't you think I'm like the prodigal's—daughter? Yesterday I felt a whisper 'way down in my mind,—I didn't hear it, but I felt it,—and it said, 'You mustn't disobey your mamma; you mustn't play with Lina Rosenberg!'"