Her pocket was stuffed quite full, and one end of a slice of cake peeped out, though she tried her best to press it down. But Abby had a hope that no one would notice it through her white apron.
As Dotty's hair was now in fine order, the two children set out on their walk. They had gone but a few steps when Zip came trotting along, with all speed, looking up in their faces as if to say, "What have I done, that I can't go too?"
"Queer what made him want to come," said Abby, tartly.
"He loves his little sister," said Dotty, stroking his nose. "He shall go, he shall; he's a darling."
The dog kept beside the children, and every now and then Abby secretly punched him with a stick, while Dotty was patting his head, and chatting with him.
It was a long way to aunt Martha's, and Abby, besides feeling guilty, and ashamed of herself, was also very anxious to eat the goodies which made such a bunch in her pocket. Zip seemed to know there was cake somewhere, and sniffed about in a way which made her rather nervous.
"Here, let's creep under this fence," said she; "what's the use to go 'round by the road? It's a great deal nearer to your aunt's house through the field."
"There, child," cried she, when they were on the other side of the fence, "now I want to go behind this clump of trees, to—to find a book I left here yesterday: but you mustn't come, Dotty."
"What for can't I? Yes, I shall, Abby Grant; you shame yourself! I'm goin' every single where you go; so, now, you'll have to give up!"
"Dot Parling, you go right along with your doggie! I'll come in a minute."