“I’d rather have pickled limes,” said Dotty thoughtfully.

“So you shall,” cried eager Susy; “and you’ll be the sweetest little pet, and ride home like a lady.”

“So I will,” said Dotty, serenely, “when I’ve had my supper.”

Susy’s face fell.  If the little piece of obstinacy would stay, she would; and Mrs. Harlow politely declared they should all be delighted.  But how would she behave at the table?  Her manners were as yet unformed; she needed line upon line and precept upon precept.  It was dreadful to think of her taking supper at one of the nicest houses in the city, in that dress, and without her watchful mother too!  It was a severe trial to Susy.  Prudy was also distressed, but her “sky-like spirit” brightened again speedily.

The little girls all crowded about Dotty, begging her to join in their games; but she said it would “hurt her big bonnet,” which she could not be persuaded to take off, because she fancied it added something to her importance.

Fanny Harlow brought out a picture book for the little runaway.

“I’m afraid she’ll tear it,” said careful Prudy.

Dotty looked at her sister with a withering glance, and, in her eagerness to prove that she knew how to handle books, suddenly tore one of the leaves.  She was surprised and mortified; but her self-esteem was not easily crushed.

“There, Prudy,” said she, pertly; “what made you let me do it for?  You said I’d tear it!”

Mrs. Harlow hastened supper, fearing that Mrs. Parlin might be anxious about her little daughter.  Dotty was placed between her two sisters.  Susy pinned a napkin about the child’s neck, and in a whisper begged to be allowed to spread her bread and butter for her.  Dotty had worn the air of a princess royal all the afternoon; but now, seated in a high chair, and surrounded by a group of admiring little girls, she felt like a crowned queen.  Taking her bread in both hands, she crumbed it into her goblet of milk, and began to dip it out with the handle of her fork.  The girls looked on and smiled, and Dotty gave a little purr of satisfaction.

“Everybody’ll think mother doesn’t teach her good manners,” thought poor Susy, hardly knowing whether she ate bread or ashes.

“Dear, dear,” said Prudy to herself; “Dotty may die some time, and then I should be sorry, and cry.  I’ll keep thinking of that, so I can bear her awful actions better.”

The little princess, from her throne in the high chair, did very rude things; such as coughing and blowing crumbs into her plate, drumming with her feet, and beating time with her fork and spoon.  When bread was offered, she said,—­

“I don’t like baker’s bread.  I like daily bread.”

But this was all the remark she made during the whole meal.  At last she ceased eating, coughing, and drumming:  there was a “flash of silence.”

Everybody looked up.  Dotty’s eyes were closed, and her head was swaying from side to side, like a heavy apple stuck on a knitting needle—­she was fast asleep.