"But that cruel little chègre is drinking your blood, my daughter. The more he drinks, the larger he will grow, and the harder it will be to cut him out."
"That's so," said Horace. "I could preach, with jigger for a text. Ahem! He is like sin—the more you let him stay, the more you'll wish you hadn't. Come, Dotty, be brave, and out with him!"
"You can talk to me," said Dotty, bitterly; "but if it was your side that had a jiggle in, perhaps you'd feel as bad's I do."
Horace was prepared for this.
"But I've had them cut out twice, miss. Being a boy, I could bear it!"
This settled the question.
"Girls are just as brave as boys," said Dotty; and submitted to the knife without a murmur.
The next day she was regarded as something of an invalid. She had lost so much sleep that she did not rise until her father was far away on his journey. Aunt Maria gave her a late breakfast, which was also to serve for an early dinner. It was an oyster-stew; and Dotty enjoyed eating it in Mrs. Clifford's room on the lounge. Katie sat beside her, watching every mouthful, and begging for it the moment it entered the spoon.
"Don't tease so," said Dotty; "your poor cousin is sick; you don't want to take away her soup?"
"Yes, I does," replied Katie, coolly; "I likes it myself," opening her mouth for more.