A Sweet Little Maid Part 16

"It's been just the very happiest day I ever had," said the little girl as she stood in her white night gown, ready for bed.

"I ought to be a very, very good girl, mamma; and I have done so many naughty things lately, but I didn't think."

"Didn't Think is a bad enemy to most little girls," said Mrs. Dallas, holding her daughter's fair head against her shoulder.

"Did _you_ have to fight him?"

"I did, indeed."

"That's a comfort. Perhaps when I grow up, I may be a little weeny, weeny bit like you, darling mamsey. Please give me nine more kisses."

"One on your forehead; one on each cheek; one on each eyelid; one between the eyes; one on your chin; one on your mouth, and where shall I put the other?"

"Here, in the tickley place under my chin. Now say 'my blessed child'; that always makes me feel good, and then I'll pop into bed."

But the head was no sooner on the pillow than it was bobbed up again, and there came the whisper, "Mamma, please kiss Florence more than one time, and call her something nice." And when this was done, two very tired, but very happy, little girls kissed each other, and in a few moments were fast asleep.

CHAPTER VII

Housekeepers

"Mamma," said Dimple, with her elbows on the arm of her mother's chair, "what are you thinking about so hard? You have a little puckery frown between your eyes, whenever you look at Florence and me. What have we been doing?"

"Nothing," replied Mrs. Dallas, smiling. "I was wondering if it would be wise to leave you two alone here with Bubbles for a day. Mrs. Hardy wants me to go to the city with her to-morrow, and I promised Sylvy some time ago that she should have the day; she wants to go off on an excursion, and has been making great preparations. I could not have the heart to disappoint her, and your papa will not be at home for another week, so I am very doubtful about leaving you."

"Oh! do go, mamma," cried Dimple, clapping her hands. "We can keep house beautifully, can't we, Florence?--and it will be such fun. Do go, there's a darling. We'll be just as grown-up as possible, and do anything you tell us."

"And you will not be afraid?"

"Not in the least. We'll have Bubbles, you know, and she can run awfully fast, if we get ill, and want the doctor," replied Dimple, cheerfully.

"I hope no such effort will be needed on Bubbles' part. You must not turn the house upside down, nor empty all the trunks and chests upon the floor of the attic."

"Now, mamma," exclaimed Dimple, reproachfully, "why do you remind us of that?"

Mrs. Dallas laughed at the woe-begone tone.

"That you may remember not to do it again," she replied; then she added, "Well, I'll think about it a little longer. I promised to let Mrs. Hardy know this afternoon. Now run along and let me think."

"You will tell us as soon as you make up your mind," said Dimple, as she left the room with Florence.

"Yes, yes; don't keep me any longer from my 'think.'"

"Don't you hope she will go?" asked Florence. "I think it would be lots of fun to have the house all to ourselves for a whole day. What shall we do, Dimple?"

"Oh, there will be lots to do," replied Dimple, importantly. "There will be the beds to make, and the house to put in order, and dinner to get.

Oh, Florence! What shall we have for dinner? What should you like?"

"I don't know, exactly; baked custards are nice."

"Yes," a.s.sented Dimple, doubtfully, "but I'm afraid we couldn't manage to make them just right; they seem sort of hard; and you don't like huckleberry pudding."

"Then let's have apple 'cobbler;' we both like that."

"Yes, and it is easy, at least I think it is, just crust and apples.

Well, we'll have that. I do wish mamma would hurry up and tell us."

The two established themselves on the lowest step, as near as possible to the library, where Mrs. Dallas was sitting.

"Don't make such a noise," said Dimple, as Florence, to while away the time, began to sing; "you will keep mamma from thinking. Just let's whisper." So for a half hour or more a little whispering sound went on, interspersed by stifled laughter. Then at the noise of Mrs. Dallas' hand upon the door k.n.o.b, the two girls sprang to their feet.

"Hurry up, mamma, tell us," cried Dimple, as the door opened.

"When you give me a chance," replied Mrs. Dallas, smiling. "I am going.

Does that please you?"

"Oh! oh!" cried the two, dancing up and down.

"How flattering you are," said Mrs. Dallas, laughing; "I never had pleasure so fully shown for such a cause. So you will be delighted to get rid of me?"

"Now mamma! Now auntie!" came in chorus. "It isn't that at all, but it will be such fun, and we are going to make an 'apple cobbler' for dinner."

"Are you! Who said so?"

"Why, mayn't we?" asked Dimple, somewhat taken aback.

"Who will make it?"

"Why, we will, of course. I've seen Sylvy do it often, and I know exactly how. Do, do let us, mamma."

It seemed too bad to dampen their ardor, and Mrs. Dallas, rather dubiously, consented, but charged them not to eat under cooked dough, or raw apples.

Every one was up betimes the next morning. Sylvy had set everything in readiness for breakfast, and had taken an early departure, and Mrs.

Dallas was to leave on the nine o'clock train.

"I shall be back by eight o'clock," she told the children. "Don't set the house afire, and don't make yourselves ill."

"Now, don't worry over us," said Dimple, loftily; "we shall do finely."

But she did feel a little sinking of heart as her mamma's form was lost to view, and the two girls turned from the gate.

"I wish Rock were not going with them," remarked Dimple. "It would be nice to have him here."

"I don't think it would," replied Florence; "we'd have to entertain him, and maybe he doesn't like 'apple cobbler.'"