Prudy Keeping House Part 12

It mattered little to Dotty, after this, what happened. She cared nothing about the elegant masters and misses who dropped in to dinner, though Prudy was too frightened to speak; nothing about the paroquets, and dried b.u.t.terflies, and j.a.panese canoes she pretended to look at; 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 coa.r.s.er 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 pa.s.sed 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 from the party, and found her way up-stairs to Mrs. Pragoff's room. There, on the outside of the bed, lay Fly, half undressed, and still very pale.

"Gas-light makes folks look _gas_-ly," thought Dotty, "but she isn't much sick, or Horace wouldn't have eaten any dinner. There, when I first got a peek at this bed-quilt, I thought it was so queer; and now I'm going to see what it's made of."

Instead of a common coverlet, the bed was adorned with two enormous crimson satin cus.h.i.+ons stuffed with swan's down. The cus.h.i.+on on the lower half of the bed was two feet deep, to cover the lower part of the body, and the one at the upper part not quite so thick, for it was to cover the shoulders. Then a sheet of the finest linen was turned over at the top and sides, and b.u.t.toned on to the cus.h.i.+ons. The pillows were of crimson silk, the bedstead enormously high, and carved all over with figures of G.o.ds and G.o.ddesses.

Dotty stood gazing with surprise, and almost forgetting her trouble.

"She must have brought it over from Poland when she ran away, only it's so heavy. But then I don't s'pose she ran on foot. Came in the night, in the cars, prob'ly. Poland's up by the North Pole. I'm going to ask auntie about it."

But the moment auntie came into her thoughts Dotty was wretched again.

She went to a window, drew back the damask curtain, and gazed out.

"The night came on alone, The little stars sat, one by one, Each on his golden throne."

"Those stars twinkle like auntie's rings. Let's see: one was full of little pieces of gla.s.s, about as big as raspberry seeds. I shouldn't think gla.s.s would cost much. And the other was red, like a drop of blood, with ice frozen over it. That can't be so expensive, should you think, as a string of beads?"

Dotty tried hard to comfort herself, but could not stay comforted.

"You don't s'pose auntie's jewels cost more than my papa is worth? How he must feel to be so poor! If he has to pay for those rings, we shan't get enough to eat. Have to live on crackers and olives. And when we come to the table, father will look at me, and say, 'This is on the account of your naughty conduct, child!' O, dear! I can't speak one word, for it will be true, what he says. Grandma Read will have enough to eat; Norah will set it on her end of the table. Grandma is rich; I've seen her counting over bills in her desk; but how could I ask her for any, when she'd look right in my eyes, and say, 'What was thee doing with other folks' rings on thy thumbs?'

"Well, I know 'twasn't right; but 'twas Prudy's fault some. If she hadn't told me not to so hard, I _persume_ I shouldn't. What made her speak up, and get me started?

"O, did you ever see such a beautiful string of beads? One, two, three,--I guess there are a thousand."

Dotty threw the necklace over her head, and the air became as fragrant as a garden of spices.

"I don't mean to meddle with other peoples' things any more; mother has taught me better. But there's one thought keeps coming into my mind: Isn't it wicked to have so much jewelry? The 'postles didn't wear any, nor Job didn't wear any, nor Moses.

"Well, nor auntie don't, either. Nothing but a watch and wedding-ring.

Horace says that's so queer.

"Now, what's the use of it, just to lock up away from the _morths_? I don't believe auntie knows how many rings there were in that casket!"

This was a new idea. Dotty's eyes began to sparkle. They would have made a jeweller's fortune if he could have put them in a gold setting, and sold them for sapphires.

"The rings are somewhere round. I'm sure I can find them; but if I can't, will it be very wrong not to tell, when 'twouldn't make the least difference, and auntie never wears 'em? Ought never to have 'em at all; ought to have the ornaments of meek and quiet spirits, instead of rings.

"Prudy would think 'twas awful not to tell; but Prudy can't say anything to me. Didn't she get mad yesterday, real, shaky mad? 'Twas a great deal wickeder for her than it is for me--her disposition is real good, and mine was born awful. So Prudy can't say a word to me about anything I do.

"And I declare, who wants to eat olives and fried pork? Prudy wouldn't like it any better'n I do. She would _think_ she'd tell, but p'haps she wouldn't any quicker'n me.

"All just for two old rings, that never did me any good, and didn't have much of a time keeping house, either."

"Dotty Dimple, you here?" said Prudy, appearing at her sister's elbow, like an accusing angel. "Why, I've been hunting you all over the house.

You mustn't wear that on your neck; it is a rosary; it doesn't belong to you."

"Prudy little knows how my heart's broken," thought Dotty, "or she wouldn't talk about beads. And me wanting to go home so I could 'most fly, just to find those rings."

"I have been hunting for you," repeated Prudy. "Mrs. Pragoff sent a man over to Uncle Augustus's to find out whether they came to-night in the cars; but they didn't. There was a letter that uncle wasn't able; but they'll come to-morrow afternoon."

"That's splendid," thought Dotty; "now I'll have to-night and all to-morrow forenoon to hunt."

"And then Mrs. Pragoff said we might just as well stay here all night as to go home," continued Prudy.

"O, dear, dear! we're not going to stay here. Prudy Parlin? Why didn't you come and ask if I was willing?"

"I did hunt for you, Dotty, but I couldn't find you. I thought you'd like to stay. They are playing so beautifully down stairs. I'm just proud of Horace; he acts like a little gentleman."

"I don't care how Horace acts, and I don't want to play with people that have their hair frizzed. I want to go back to auntie's.'

"But you can't, Dotty. Mrs. Pragoff has sent to Mrs. Fixfax for our night-dresses."

Dotty rolled herself up in the curtain, and screamed into the folds of it.

"Why, Dotty, what am I going to do with you? Please come down, and behave."

"O, Prudy, I don't want ever to go down again. I don't want ever to see folks, or behave, as long as I live."

"But, Dotty, all these little boys and girls came here just to see us.

It is our Christmas party. You'll mortify Mrs. Pragoff. You know how Fly mortified her this morning. Please _don't_ be contrary."

Dotty unrolled herself from the curtain with a triumphant smile.

"You needn't say anything, Prudy Parlin! You got mad your own self, I s'pose you know!"

Prudy's eyes dropped suddenly.