“All the little boys and girls were immensely excited when these cards came, and especially at ‘R. S. V. P.’ They were anxious to know what it could mean. Some one told them, ‘Real Sweet Violet Powder;’ but the children said, ‘Pshaw! that was too silly.’”
“What did it really mean?” asked Thekla.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said June. “How should I? I never go to parties. Perhaps the last word is ‘Pringle:’ that begins with ‘P.’ But, whatever it means, it was nice to have them printed there, because it set the little folks guessing, and doubled the fun. Meantime, Dotty and Willy were hard at work getting ready for the grand affair. It took almost a week, I can tell you.
“Every thing had to be scrubbed, of course. All the windows were washed, and the furniture dusted. The neighbors sent contributions of cake and biscuit; and, to make the feast more imposing, Mr. Pringle ordered up a big basket of peaches.
“When the time came, Dotty and Willy, in their best clothes, sat on two chairs waiting for the company, and looking very solemn. Every one had to rap on the door; and Dotty, on opening it, would say, ‘Please s’cuse me for coming my own self, ’cause I’ve sent my girl out on a current,’ which was very impressive.
“Then the little visitors would come into the parlor, and sit down. They all tried to be very grave and grown-up; but it didn’t last long with most of them. Dotty’s dignity, however, held out to the end. When she sat at the head of the table pouring tea (out of the pitcher), she was a sight to behold.
“‘Mr. Pringle,’ she would say, ‘please distibit those peaches. You ain’t so polite to the company as I could wish.’
“The very next day after this happy one, Dotty’s Mamma and Papa went away, and Dotty with them. All the good times were over. She sat on her nurse’s lap and sobbed, as they drove down the street. When they passed ‘No. 17,’ it seemed as if her heart must break. As for poor Willy, he felt as badly as she; but he wouldn’t cry, because he was a man and the head of a family. When the carriage was quite out of sight, he walked down to the house to see if it would make him feel better. But it looked empty and lonely, with no cunning little figure trotting about, broom in hand; and was altogether so dismal that the poor little man couldn’t bear it, and, as there was nobody to see, he just sat down and cried as hard as Dotty herself. Next day he, too, went away. And since then nobody has lived in the cottage; but the neighbors still tell of the droll little housekeepers, and the nice times they had there.”
“Oh, don’t go! Tell us another,” pleaded the children, as June rose gently from her seat.
“Look at the clock!” remonstrated June.