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Updated: May 9, 2025
I suppose cookies and vinegar had taken away their appetites, for none of them were hungry, and Dorry astonished Aunt Izzie very much by eyeing the table in a disgusted way, and saying: "Pshaw! only plum sweatmeats and sponge cake and hot biscuit! I don't want any supper." "What ails the child? he must be sick," said Dr. Carr; but Katy explained.
This fact gave it a certain awful interest in the eyes of Phil and Johnnie, and even Elsie gazed upon it with respect. The little valise was also ready; and Dorry, the neat-handed, had painted a red star on both ends of both it and the trunk, that they might be easily picked from among a heap of luggage.
She sewed and finished, she packed and advised, she assisted to box her father's books, and went with Dorry to choose the new papers and rugs which were to make the old house freshly bright for Imogen; she exclaimed and rejoiced over each wedding present that arrived, and supplied that sweet atmosphere of mutual interest and sympathy which is the vital breath of a family occasion.
"Not a bit queerer, I assure you, than some which floated up to us from below," retorted Johnnie, recovering her powers of speech. "We thought it was doves." "And we were sure it was ghosts, affectionate ghosts, you know, on excellent terms with each other." "Young, I want a word with you," said Dorry, drawing Lionel aside. "And I want a word with you."
And Dorry, I think it's very unkind," and Elsie ran to Katy, hid her face, and began to cry. "Never mind, darling, they didn't mean to be unkind. Papa, her hands are quite hot; you must give her something." Katy's voice shook a little; but she would not hurt Elsie's feeling by showing that she was amused.
Dorry, who had begun on his as he came up the ladder, was a little unwilling, but he was too much in the habit of minding Katy to dare to disobey. The big bottle was set in a corner, and a stack of cookies built up around it. "That's right," proceeded Katy, who, as oldest and biggest, always took the lead in their plays. The opening exercise will be 'A Tragedy of the Alhambra, by Miss Hall."
Shooting at tin cans was much more interesting than talking about beaux. "I have to help Aunt Jane get supper," said Dorothy, who had been invited to stay for supper that evening. In fact, she was often at the Hastings ranch, a more than welcome guest. Jimmy scowled. Dorry was always helping Aunt Jane make dresses or trim hats, or get supper.
"Spec' Miss Dorry busy," observed the old man, raising his solemn, wrinkled face to listen. "Uncle," I said, "is it true that you are all mad in this house?" "We sho' is, suh," he replied, without interest. "Are you too crazy to care for my horse?" "Oh no, suh." "Then go and rub her down, and feed her, and let me sit here in the hallway. I want to think."
What with John's recently developed tendency to disappear into canyons with Lionel Young, with the boys necessarily so occupied, and their own many little tasks and home duties, there had been moments during the fortnight when Clover and Elsie had found Dorry rather heavy on their hands.
And everybody'll be kind, then, and never run away and hide; and there won't be any post offices, or anything disagreeable." "What'll you be, Johnnie?" asked Clover, anxious to change the subject, for Elsie's voice was growing plaintive. But Johnnie had no clear ideas as to her future. She laughed a great deal, and squeezed Dorry's arm very tight, but that was all. Dorry was more explicit.
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