"O, is that all?" said Dotty, and ceased fanning her auntie with a book-cover.
"O, is that all?" echoed Fly, and left off patting her cheek with a pencil.
"But, children," said Horace, "don't you understand Uncle Augustus is sick—wants auntie to go and take care of him?"
"Why, he can't have her."
"Indeed, Miss Dot, and why not?"
"She's got company, you know."
"There, little sister! I wouldn't think that of you? Poor Uncle Augustus!"
"But he says he isn't serious," said Dotty, looking ashamed. "Auntie, you don't think he's serious—do you?"
"No, dear; he's suffering very much, but I am not in the least alarmed. He has had just such attacks as this ever since he came out of the army. He is at a hotel in Trenton, New Jersey, and needs some one to wait upon him, who knows just what to do. I am very sorry to go and leave my company, Dotty, but—"
"O, auntie, you ought to go," cried Dotty.