"If I was _some_ children," thought Dotty, "I shouldn't know how to part
my hair in the middle. Then my papa wouldn't dare to take me; for _he_
can't part my hair any mor'n a cat!"

Dotty smiled loftily as she looked at her father reading a newspaper. He
was only a man; and though intelligent enough to manage the trunks, and
proceed in a straight line to Indiana, still he was incapable of
understanding when a young lady's hat was put on straight, and had once
made the rosette come behind!

In view of these short-comings of her parent and her own adroitness at
the toilet, Dotty came to the conclusion that she was not, strictly
speaking, under any one's charge, but was taking care of herself.

"I wonder," thought she, "how many people there are in this car that
know I'm going out West!"

She sat up very primly, and looked around. The faces were nearly all new
to her.

"That woman in the next seat, how homely her little girl is, with
freckles all over her face! Perhaps her mother wishes she was as white
as I am. Why, who is that pretty little girl close to my father?"

Dotty was looking straight forward, and had accidentally caught a peep
at her own face in the mirror.

"Why, it's me! How nice I look!" smiling and nodding at the pleasant
picture.