eant only Aunt Martha and Lonnie.

"Cousin Lydia wanted to make me cry," exclaimed Dotty, her eyes shooting
out sparks of displeasure; "she 'spected I'd cry, and that's
why--Katie," added she, drawing the little one up to her, "Cousin Lydia
won't let you come to her house."

"What _for_ she won't?" cried Katie, looking defiant. "If I good would
her put me in the closet? I don't like her tall, tenny rate."

This was the strongest expression of wrath Katie dared use; and when she
said she did not like a person "tall tenny rate," it meant that she was
very, very angry.

"Has Cousin Yiddy got some heart?" asked she indignantly.

"Not a bit," replied Dotty, fiercely.

Mrs. Parlin now tried to explain. She said Mrs. Tenny did not intend any
disrespect to the two youngest ones; but she really had no room for
them, as her guests were to spend the night.

"The mistake she made was in asking Susy and Prudy," said Aunt Louise;
"but I suppose she was curious to see our little poetess."

Prudy blushed, and hid her face behind the curtain.

"Poor little sister," thought she, "how she feels!" For Dotty sat in the
rocking-chair, as stiff as a jointed doll, looking as if she loved
nobody and nobody loved her. Her beautiful eyes had ceased to shoot
sparks of fire, and now appeared hard and frozen, like thick blue ice.
In fact, a fit of the pouts was coming on very fast, and gentle Prudy
dreaded it. She had been so happy in the thought of riding to
Bloomingdale; could she give up that pleasure, and stay at home with
Dotty? Nothing less, she knew, would satisfy the child. All her life
Prudy had been learning to think of the happiness of others before her
own. She cast another glance at the still face.

"I'm not going to Bloomingdale," sighed she, behind the curtain.

But when she told Mrs. Parlin so, that night, her voice was very
tremulous.

"You dear little girl," said grandma, giving her a hearty kiss; "you
need not make any such resolve. Your sister Alice must learn to bear
disappointments as well as you. You are going to Bloomingdale with us,
my child; so bring your blue dress to me, and let me see if it is in
order."

Though Prudy's offer to remain at home had been made in all good faith,
and though she was really sorry to think of leaving Dotty alone, still I
cannot say her heart did not bound with delight on being told she _must_
go.

Thursday morning came clear and bright, and with it Miss Polly, downcast
and sad