nothing about the chatting and laughing, and very little about the
Christmas plum-pudding, the oyster-pies, and ice cream. Dotty had no
heart for any of these things. She was thinking continually, "Where are
those rings?"

Fly did not dine, and Dotty had begged to stay with her.

"No," said Mrs. Pragoff, patting Miss Dimple's cheek with her dainty
hand, which did not look as if it had ever been soiled with anything
coarser than rose leaves; "I am glad to see you so kind to your dear
little cousin; but she is asleep on my bed, and does not need you."

Prudy sat at her hostess's right hand, and in spite of her bashfulness,
was as happy a child as ever broke a wish-bone. No one who has not had
the care of a family can imagine the relief she felt now the cooking was
off her mind. But Dotty was wringing her hands under the table-cloth,
and thinking, "I don't want to see anybody. My heart is certainly
broken."

"Why, Dot, what's the matter? What are you scowling at so?" said Horace,
in a low tone.

Upon that Dotty began to smile. No one must know her heart was broken,
for fear the question might arise, "What broke it?" Of course her smile
was a make-believe, nothing more nor less than a simper. The large boy
across the table looked at her in surprise. "Handsome as a picture,"
thought he, "but no brains."

"O, my sorrows! What'll I do? I can't remember whether I put those rings
in my blue pocket, or carried 'em up stairs. Seems to me I dropped 'em
in a salt-cellar. No; I thought I'd lay 'em in a book, but we flew round
so when Fly was sick, that I shouldn't wonder if they got into the
wood-box."

All the while Dotty went on simpering and saying, "If you please, sir,"
every time a dish was passed her. Her singular behavior surprised
Horace, and when she took three olives, which she very much disliked,
and immediately afterwards tucked them under her plate, he said,--

"Dot, I believe you are crazy."

It was an unfortunate remark. A little more, and there would have been a
scene at the table; but Dotty, with all her self-control, forced back
the tears. "Wonder if he wanted to make me cry," thought she; "but I
won't cry. And he needn't think he can make me 'mad' either. S'pose I'd
show temper right before these people?"

On the whole, Dotty contrived to keep up appearances, and no one but
Horace and the youth opposite noticed her much, or suspected her of
being an idiot. But the moment dinner was over, she stole away