"There's a man goin' by—old all over, and a white whisker. Who is it?" inquired Dotty, changing the subject again. "The whisker looks like snow, 's if his chin's cold!"
"Never mind the man," returned Prudy. "If you'll go I'll spend my five cents, and buy you some pep'mints."
"I'd rather have pickled limes," said Dotty thoughtfully.
"So you shall," cried eager Susy; "and you'll be the sweetest little pet, and ride home like a lady."
"So I will," said Dotty, serenely, "when I've had my supper."
Susy's face fell. If the little piece of obstinacy would stay, she would; and Mrs. Harlow politely declared they should all be delighted. But how would she behave at the table? Her manners were as yet unformed; she needed line upon line and precept upon precept. It was dreadful to think of her taking supper at one of the nicest houses in the city, in that dress, and without her watchful mother too! It was a severe trial to Susy. Prudy was also distressed, but her "sky-like spirit" brightened again speedily.
The little girls all crowded about Dotty, begging her to join in their games; but she said it would "hurt her big bonnet," which she could not be persuaded to take off, because she fancied it added something to her importance.
Fanny Harlow brought out a picture book for the little runaway.
"I'm afraid she'll tear it," said careful Prudy.
Dotty looked at her sister with a withering glance, and, in her eagerness to prove that she knew how to handle books, suddenly tore one of the leaves. She was surprised and mortified; but her self-esteem was not easily crushed.