Through this window crept Dotty, regardless of her white stockings and crimson dress. When she had fairly got her head through the opening, and was no longer afraid of being seen, she breathed more freely.
"Here I am! Not a bit of me out. But I must go on my tipsy-toes, or they"ll hear me, and think it"s a _buggler_"
There was quite a steep hill to walk over, and she found it anything but a path of roses. Once or twice she stumbled and fell upon her hands and knees.
"Seems to me," said she, drawing out her foot, which had sunk above the ankle in coal,--"seems to me I have as many feet as a caterpillar."
But she kept on, down the Hill of Difficulty, till she reached solid ground. It was not a very cheerful apartment, that is certain. The light had much difficulty in getting in at the little windows, and when it did fight its way through it was not good for much; it was a gloomy light, and looked as if it had had a hard time.
Dotty went up to the furnace for comfort. It was a tall, black thing, doing its best to give warmth and cheer to the rooms up stairs, but it was of no use to the cellar. It was like some brilliant people, who shine in society, but are dull and stupid at home. Dotty opened the furnace door, and tried to warm her cold fingers.
"Why, my hands are as black as a _sip_," sighed she; as if she could have expected anything else.
There did not seem to be one ray of hope in her little dark soul. She had no tears to shed,--she seldom had,--but when she was in trouble, she was always in the lowest depths.
"Pretty well for me to make believe I was a thief, and was going to steal! "Who is this strange little girl?" said he; "it _looks_ like--""
She heard voices near the cellar door. What if Norah should come down after b.u.t.ter? Dotty was not prepared for that. She could not hide in the keg of lard, of course; and what _should_ she do?
"My head is tipside up; I can"t think." Then she began to wonder how long she could live down there, in case she was not discovered.
"I s"pose I can climb up on the swing shelf, and sleep there nights. I can hide behind things in the daytime, and when I"m hungry I can eat out of the jars and boxes."
The sound of voices came down distinctly from the kitchen overhead. Dotty crouched behind an apple barrel, and listened. Grandma Read was talking to Mrs. Parlin, who seemed to be in another room.
"Mary, my gla.s.ses _are_ gone this time," said she. "If little Alice were only here, I should set her to hunting."
"She don"t know I"m in the house this minute," thought Dotty; "no, _under_ the house. Dear me!"
With that she walked softly up the stairs, and listened at the door-latch; for the sound of her grandmother"s voice was encouraging, and Dotty, in her loneliness, longed to be near the dear people of the family, even if she could not see them.
"Edward," said her mother,--what music there was in her voice!--"if you are going after that dear child, you"d better take a shawl to wrap her in, for it is snowing fast. And be sure to tell her we love her dearly, every one of us, and don"t believe she will ever run away again."
"O, was her papa going after her? Did they love her, after all? Were they willing to keep her in the house?"
Dotty opened the door before she knew it. "O, mamma, mamma!" cried she, rushing into her mother"s arms.
"Why, Dotty, you darling child, where did you come from?" exclaimed Mrs.
Parlin, in great surprise, kissing the little, dirty girl, and taking her right to her heart, in spite of the coal-dust.
"If you"ll let me stay at home," gasped Dotty, "if you"ll _let_ me stay at home, I"ll live in the kitchen, and won"t go near the table."
"Where _did you_ come from?" said Mr. Parlin, kissing a clean place on Dotty"s black face, and laughing under his breath.
"I came through the cellar window, papa."
"Through the cellar window, child?"
"Yes, papa; I didn"t s"pose you"d care!"
"Care! My dear, your mother is the one to care! Just look at your stockings!"
"There was coal there, thrown in," said Dotty, with a quivering lip; "and I had to walk over it, and under it, and through it."
"Was my little daughter afraid to come in by the door?"
"I didn"t know"s you wanted me, papa.
"I thought you"d say, "What strange child is this?""
Mr. Parlin, looking at the black streaks on Dotty"s woeful face, found it very difficult to keep from laughing. "A strange child" she appeared to be, certainly.
"But I"d got my visit all finished up, ever and ever so long ago."
"So you really chose to come back to us, my dear?"
"O, papa, you don"t know! Did you think, did you s"pose--"
Here Dotty broke down completely, and, seizing her father"s shirt-bosom in both her grimy hands, she buried her face in it, and sprinkled it with tears of ink.
There was great surprise throughout the house when Dotty"s arrival became known.
"We didn"t know how to live without you any longer," said Prudy; "and tomorrow Thanksgiving Day."
"But I never should have come up," said Dotty, "if I hadn"t heard mamma talk about loving me just the same; I never _could_ have come up."
"Excuse me for smiling," said Prudy; "but you look as if you had fallen into the inkstand. It is _so_ funny!"
Dotty was not at all amused herself; but after she was dressed in clean clothes, she felt very happy, and enjoyed her supper remarkably well. The thought that they "didn"t know how to live without her" gave a relish to every mouthful.
It was a delightful evening to the little wanderer. The parlor looked so cheerful in the rosy firelight that Dotty thought she "would like to kiss every single thing in the room." It was unpleasant out of doors, and the wind blew as if all the people in the world were deaf, and must be made to hear; but Dotty did not mind that. She looked out of the window, and said to Prudy,--
"Seems as if the wind had blown out all the stars; but no matter--is it?
It is all nice in the house."
Then she dropped the curtain, and went to sit in her mother"s lap. Not a word of reproach had been uttered by any one yet; for it was thought the child had suffered enough.
"Mamma," said Dotty, laying her tired head on her mother"s bosom, "don"t you think I"m like the prodigal"s--daughter? Yesterday I felt a whisper "way down in my mind,--I didn"t hear it, but I _felt_ it,--and it said, "You mustn"t disobey your mamma; you mustn"t play with Lina Rosenberg!""
"Only think, my child, if you had only paid attention to that whisper!"
"Yes, mamma, but I tried to forget it, and by and by I did forget it--almost. There"s one thing I know," added Dotty, clasping her hands together; "I"ll never run away again. If I"m going to, I"ll catch myself by the shoulder, and hold on just as hard!"
"My blessed child, I hope so," said Mrs. Parfin, with tears in her eyes and a stronger faith in her heart than she had felt for many a day that Dotty really meant to do better. "You don"t know how it did distress your papa and me to have you stay in that house a night and a day; but we hoped it would prove a lesson to you; we meant it for your best good."
To make sure the lesson would not be forgotten, Prudy read her little sister a private lecture. She had written it that afternoon with carmine ink, on the nicest of tinted paper. Dotty received it very humbly, and laid it away in the rosewood box with her precious things.