[CHAPTER II.]
THE LITTLE WIDOW.
Did she go down-stairs then and tell anybody what she had done? That would have been the right way, but Kittyleen was only a baby. She felt sadly frightened, and roved all about the chambers crying, till Dora Whalen heard her from the back stairs, and took her down to the kitchen in her arms. "The poor little thing is homesick," thought Dora, and fed her with raisins.
When Flaxie went up to her mother's room soon afterward, she saw that the cabinet door was open and the doll gone, and was much troubled, though not prepared for the worst. After long search, the mangled remains of the once blooming princess were brought to light, and then Flaxie's heart almost broke. She could not be comforted, and she could not forgive Kittyleen. It was of no use suggesting a new head for the poor, wounded doll. What was her mother thinking of? Didn't she know that Arozarena was just like a person? And who ever heard of a person's losing one head, and then going and having another fitted on? "She wouldn't be my own child with a new head and face; and you wouldn't talk of such a thing, mamma, if you'd ever lost a beautiful doll like this! You'd see the difference and know how I feel."
Kittyleen screamed in fright.—[Page 21.]
Phil and little Ethel looked on with solemn interest as their elder sister raved. So sad a day as this had not been known in the house since Preston's dear dog, Tantra Bogus, ate poison by mistake and died. Princess Arozarena was almost like living flesh and blood to these little children. They could not remember the time when she did not exist, and it was really heartrending to think now of her dire and unexpected fate.
Mrs. Gray dropped her work and told the children of a sorrow she had known in her own early youth as grievous as this. She, too, had lost a bright, particular doll, and it had come to its end by the teeth of a neighbor's dog.
"Was it a mad dog?" asked Flaxie, with a sob. And Phil wondered if his mother could have cried.