"I stand rebuked, my dear madam," replied the family physician, respectfully.
"I wish there were more such women as Mrs. Clifford," mused he, as he drove home; "she lives up to the Golden Rule; and if there's any better prescription than the Golden Rule for making a lady, I haven't seen it yet; that's all."
It was one of those days when strange things seem ready to happen, one after another. Dotty, whose little head was rather unsettled by seeing and hearing so many new things, had an impression that such events as these were always occurring out West, and that they would never have happened anywhere else.
Chègres in logs, pearls in oysters; and now somebody had fallen up stairs and broken her nose. In Maine who ever heard the like?
Dotty twirled her hair, in a state of wonder as to what would come next. It came before bedtime.
She and Grace had been marching about the dining-room, singing martial songs. They went into the darkened parlor, still promenading, Grace's arm about her little cousin's waist.
Suddenly Grace stopped, and whispered,—
"What's that?"
Dotty listened. It was a groan. It must proceed from a human throat; but there was no one in the room but their two selves.
"I think there is something in the hall," whispered Grace; "I must go tell papa."