"O," said Dotty, tearing herself away from the little clinging arms, "I
must go home and get ready for Christmas."

"No, you musser," persisted Katie; "we've got a Santa Claw in _our_
chimley; you musser go home."

"It isn't for Santa Claus at all, darling it is for my papa and mamma's
wedding. To stand up, so they can be married over again. Now kiss me, and
let me go."

"Her's goin' home to Kismus pie," remarked Katie, as she took her
mournful way with her mamma to the house where they were visiting. She
did not know what a wedding might be, but was sure it had pies in it.

"There goes a right smart little girl," said Horace, with a sweep of his
thumb towards the Cleveland cars. "If it wasn't for Prudy, I should like
her better than any other cousin I have in the world."

"She is an engaging child," replied his mother, "and really seems to be
outgrowing her naughty ways."

Thus, you see, Dotty Dimple, in coming away from Indiana, had left in the
minds of her friends only "golden opinions." Perhaps she was rather
overrated. Everything had gone well with her during her visit; why should
she not be pleasant and happy? I am inclined to think there was the same
old naughtiness in her heart, only just now it was asleep. We shall see.

Nothing remarkable occurred on the homeward journey, except that Mr.
Parlin bought some gold-fishes in Boston, and carried them home as a
present to Mrs. Read. They travelled one night in a sleeping-car, and by