er 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."

Dotty thought a girl of Abby's age had no right to command her. She
stamped her little foot, but it made no sound in the soft grass.

"I isn't a-goin' to go long with my doggie, Abby Grant; 'cause--so
there!"

"But you must. You know, Dot Parling," said Abby, more gently, "your
grandma expects you to do just what I tell you. I'm afraid, dear, you
won't get any of that bubbled cream if you don't mind, nor any tarts."

The child queen began to think it was wisest to obey; but she did so
with a very ill grace.

"Well, Abby Grant, I will go long with my doggie; but it's cause I'm
tired, and don't want to help you find your old book--so, there!"

"That's right. Dotty. Start quick--can't you?"

Dotty took "high ground" at once. She looked Abby full in the face.

"Do you like _yourself_, Abby Grant?"

"I don' know. Yes: why?"

"'Cause I shouldn't think you would! I 'spise you!"

Having freed her mind, Dotty walked on with Zip, only turning back once,
to exclaim,--

"There, Abby, now you'll have to give up!"

Abby, naughty girl, ate her cake in secret, staining her white apron
with the jelly, while little Miss Dimple trudged on, thinking it very
strange Abby should be so long finding that book.

Perhaps for the reason that she was rather out of sorts, and thinking
about Abby rather than about the road, she missed her way, and soon
found herself in a narrow lane she had never seen before.

Zip looked rather uneasy, but followed close by her side. Dotty walked
on and on, till the track had faded quite away. This was not the road to
aunt Martha's. Why didn't Abby come?

Dotty, too proud to cry, too angry to look back, wandered till she came
to the edge of the Parlin woods. Here was a little creek, tumbling over
some small gray rocks; the same "creek" where Horace had sometimes gone
fishing.

"True as you live," said Dotty to herself, "here's a teenty-tonty
river."

There w