"Hm, hm," said Dimple, sleepily, from her pillow.
Florence slipped out of bed and stood looking dolefully at the falling drops.
"What do you suppose the birds do, Dimple?" she asked, going up to her, and softly shaking her.
"Oh," said Dimple, now awake, and sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes, "I suppose they get under the leaves just as we do under an umbrella, or they go under the eaves, and places like that. I have seen them lots of times. It is raining, isn't it, Florence?"
"I said so, long ago," answered Florence; "now we can't go out of doors to play, and it45 is so nice outdoors. I don't see the sense of its raining in summer."
"Why," returned Dimple, sitting down on the floor to put on her shoes and stockings, "that is the very time for it to rain, or everything would dry up."
"Well, I wish it didn't have to," said Florence, coming away from the window, and sitting on the floor too. "What color stockings do you like best, Dimple?"
"I don't know; black, I think. Don't you?"
"I believe I do. My! there is the breakfast bell, and we are only beginning to get dressed. You fasten my buttons, and I will fasten yours, Dimple, so we will get dressed in a hurry."
Their fingers flew, and they rushed down to breakfast two steps at a time.
"It was so dark this morning that we went to sleep again after you called us, mamma," explained Dimple.
"I will excuse you this time, but your breakfast is not as warm as it would have been earlier," said Mrs. Dallas, "and papa had to go away without his morning kiss."
"I am sorry," said Dimple. "Cold eggs aren't46 very good," she went on, pushing away her plate. "What can we do to-day, mamma?"
"What should you like to do?"
"I don't know," returned Dimple. "My feelings hurt me rainy days, and I don't know what I want."
Mrs. Dallas smiled, as she replied, "You might make paper dolls, they are good rainy day people; that would be one thing. Then you can paint."
"I haven't but one brush, and I have used up all the books and papers you gave me to paint in."
"I can find some more, perhaps, and you and Florence can take turn about with the paint brush."
Dimple looked as if that would not suit very well, and Florence seeing her look, felt a little hurt.
Paper dolls did not amuse them very long; and when Dimple was ready to color the pictures Mrs. Dallas had found for them, Florence declined absolutely to paint at all. So they both sat with their elbows on the window-sill, decidedly out of humor.47
"Florence," said Dimple, presently, "I have an idea. Do you see that hogshead down there? It is running over."
"I see it," said Florence. "What of it; it isn't anything very wonderful."
"Well, you needn't be so disagreeable," said Dimple. "What I was going to say, is this; let's make paper boats, and put paper dolls in them. We can pretend the hogshead is Niagara Falls, and the water that runs down the gutter2 can be Niagara river."
"We will get sopping3 wet."
"Oh no, we won't; it isn't raining so awfully4 hard. I will put on my rubber waterproof5, and you can put on mamma's. We can slip around there without any one seeing us, for mamma is busy on the other side of the house. Don't you think it would be fun?"
"Ye-es," said Florence, doubtfully.
"Let's hurry and make the boats then. Which paper dolls shall we take? The ugliest, I think, because they will all be drowned anyhow; and don't let's take any pretty frocks, because we can make dolls to fit the frocks when these are drowned."48
With paper boats, dolls and waterproofs6 they stole softly down the front stairs, and shutting the door after them very gently, ran around the house to the hogshead. The roses were heavy with rain, and the honeysuckle shook big drops on them, as they ran by.
The boats went topsy-turvy over the falls, upsetting the dolls, who went careering down the stream, to the great delight of the children.
They played till the last boat load was lost beyond all hope, and then, with wet feet and streaming sleeves, they crept back to the house.
"Now, what shall we do? It was lots of fun, Dimple," said Florence, "but I know your mother will scold, when she sees how wet our feet are, and your foot just well too, and see my sleeves. If we change our clothes she will wonder and then—What shall we do?"
"I don't think it was a bit of harm," said Dimple, determined7 to brave it out, "but it won't do to keep these wet frocks on. I know. We will go up into the attic8, take them off, and hang them up to dry; then we can dress up in other things. There are trunks and boxes full of clothes up there, and we can play something."49
"So we can," exclaimed Florence. "That is a perfectly9 lovely plan. Do you think our clothes will dry before supper?"
"Of course," said Dimple; "anyhow it will be funny to put on trains and things. Come on."
They raced up to the garret, and were soon diving into the boxes and trunks of winter clothing that Mrs. Dallas had packed away.
"Here," said Dimple, on her knees before a trunk, "take this skirt of mamma's," and she dragged out a cashmere skirt. "Florence, see what is in those band-boxes, and get us each a bonnet10, while I hunt for a shawl or coat, or something."
After much tumbling up of clothing, she found what she wanted, and they had taken off their frocks when they heard Mrs. Dallas calling,
"Children, where are you?"
Both were silent for a moment, and stood with quickly beating hearts.
After a second call, Dimple mustered11 up courage to answer, "Up here, mamma."
"Where?"
"In the garret."
"What are you doing?"50
"Just playing."
"Well, don't get into any mischief12," came from the bottom of the stairs, and then Mrs. Dallas went off.
Presently there came another fright: a footstep on the stairs.
"Who is that?" asked Dimple, fearfully.
"Me," came the answer, as Bubbles' woolly head appeared.
"It is only Bubbles," said Dimple, much relieved. "Come up, Bubbles; we are dressing13 up, and you shall too; but if you dare to tell on us—off you go to the orphan14 asylum15."
"I wouldn't tell fur nothin', Miss Dimple," said she, as Dimple threw her an old wrapper.
"I am going to be Lady Melrose, and Florence Lady Beckwith. You can be—Oh, Florence, let's dress Bubbles up in a coat and trousers, and have her for a footman."
"All right," said Florence, and shaking with laughter, Bubbles was attired16 in coat, trousers, and tall hat.
"Oh, she is too funny," said Florence, holding her sides. "Where is my bonnet?"
"That's mine," exclaimed Dimple, as Florence51 possessed17 herself of a bonnet with feathers in it.
"No, I chose this first," said Florence.
"Well, it's my mother's, I reckon, and I have the best right to it."
"Well, I'm company, and you're very impolite."
"I'm not," retorted Dimple, getting very red in the face.
"You are. I'd have my mother teach me how to behave, if I were you, Dimple Dallas."
"You horrid18, red-headed thing!" cried Dimple, now thoroughly19 angry. "I'd like to know how you would look in a garnet velvet20 bonnet anyhow. You'd better take something that's not quite so near the color of your hair."
"My hair isn't red, it's auburn," said Florence, bursting into a sob21, "and I'm not going to stay here another minute. I'm going straight home to my mother." And she tore off the clothes in which she had decked herself, leaving them in a heap on the floor. She snatched up her wet frock and ran downstairs.
Dimple sat quite still after Florence left her. She did not dare to go downstairs for fear of52 encountering her mother, and yet, suppose Florence should really mean to go home. How dreadful! She considered the question till she could bear it no longer, and, slowly putting on her own clothes, she crept downstairs, hoping as she went from room to room that she would find Florence. She even peeped cautiously in upon her mother, busy with her sewing, but no Florence was to be seen.
"Perhaps she has started to go home," Dimple said to herself, in real alarm. "Oh, dear, I hope there hasn't been any train along that she could take." She put on her hat, seized an umbrella from the rack, and sallied forth22. It was still raining hard, and as she splashed along, the little girl was very miserable23.
It was quite a walk to the railway station, and Dimple hurried her steps, fearing she might be too late to intercept24 her cousin. She entered the waiting-room of the station, and looked anxiously around. No Florence was there. Her heart sank and she turned to go. Florence had really meant what she said. And her aunt and cousins in Baltimore, what would they think of her? The tears began to roll down Dimple's53 cheeks as she looked up and down the long track. She did not know what to do next. It would be so dreadful to go home and tell her mother that she had driven her cousin away by her rudeness. She was about to turn toward home, when she bethought herself of making some inquiry26 about the trains; and she entered the waiting-room again.
Standing27 on tiptoe she asked the ticket agent. "When was the last train to Baltimore?"
"Next train leaves at 4:50," said the man, without looking up.
"Not the next train, but the last train. When did it go?"
"Last train!" the man glanced up. "Last train left at 2:15."
"Thank you." It was with a sense of relief that she heard him give the time. Florence had not left the house so long ago as that. It was now after four, and two hours had not elapsed since they were playing in the garret. So she went slowly out, but suddenly remembered that Florence was not at home. Where was she? Perhaps she was lost. She didn't know her way54 about very well, Dimple reflected, and she could easily have taken a wrong turn.
"I'll just have to look for her, that's all," thought Dimple; and the little feet pattered along in the rain, getting wetter and wetter each moment.
Up one street and down another went Dimple, but there was no sign of Florence, and the child's repentance28 grew stronger as she traveled on. Her imagination saw Florence in a dozen different plights29, each one worse than the last. Accidents of various kinds, disasters of every possible nature, even the very improbable idea that she had been stolen by gypsies, rose to the child's mind, till, terror stricken, she flew along, scarcely knowing which way she went.
She was conscious of steadily30 pursuing footsteps behind her, but she did not turn to look until the feet came nearer and nearer and a soft plaintive31 voice called, "Oh, Miss Dimple, stop, please stop." Looking around, she saw that Bubbles had followed her.
It was a relief to see the familiar face, and Dimple forlornly dropped into her little maid's55 arms crying: "Oh, Bubbles! Oh, Bubbles, Florence is lost."
"No 'm, she ain't," replied Bubbles, with confidence.
"Oh, how do you know?"
"'Cause she come in de front do' jis' as I was gwine th'ough de yard. I never stopped to ast her nothin', fo' I seen yuh a kitin' down street, an' I put after yuh, lickety-split. All of a suddent I los' sight of yuh, an' I been a standin' on de cornah waitin' fo' yuh to come back. I know yuh 'bleedged to cross to git home, an' I been a waitin' fo' yuh."
"Oh Bubbles! Oh Bubbles! I'm so glad, but I'm so tired and so wet, and—oh dear—I'm afraid to tell mamma, and I'm so miserable. I never was so miserable."
Bubbles looked as sympathetic as the occasion required, and trotted32 along by Dimple's side, holding the umbrella over her, and trying to suggest all manner of comforting things.
"Hit'll all be ovah befo' yuh is twict married, Miss Dimple, and hit mought be wuss. S'posin' Miss Flo'ence was los' sho 'nough, den25 yuh might tek on. She safe an' soun'. Jes' yuh come in56 de back way, an' I'll git yuh some dry things. An' Sylvy won't say nothin'. I jes' know she wont33, an' yuh can git dry by de kitchen fire. I reckon Miss Flo'ence mighty34 'shamed o' herse'f, kickin' up all dis rumpus 'bout1 nothin'."
But Dimple shook her head. "It wasn't about nothing. I behaved just as mean as could be, and I'm the one to be ashamed. I'll go straight to mamma; it will be best, for she would find out anyhow, and besides, I'd feel a great deal worse if I deceived her about it."
Bubbles was not to be convinced that her beloved Miss Dimple was at all in the wrong, but Dimple would not change her mind, being in a state of great humility35 and penitence36, and finally Bubbles gave up trying to dissuade37 her.
Florence had reached home long before. Indeed she had not gone very far before her anger cooled, although she was still very much hurt; but she concluded it would not be right to start off for her own home without a word to her aunt, who had been so kind to her. This thought added to her unhappiness, and she57 went to Dimple's room, throwing herself on the floor, crying bitterly.
The sound of her sobs38 brought Mrs. Dallas from the next room.
"Why, Florence," she said, seeing the little girl prone39 upon the floor. "What is the matter? Why have you taken off your frock?"
"Oh! auntie," sobbed40 Florence, "please let me go home; indeed, I can't stay."
"Are you homesick?" asked her aunt, as she took her up on her lap, and pushed back the damp hair from her face. "Poor little girl!"
A fresh burst of tears was the only answer.
"Where is Dimple?" asked Mrs. Dallas.
But Florence only cried the harder, and her aunt was forced to put her down with an uncomfortable sense of there being something wrong. She went directly up to the attic, but it was silent. Dimple was not there, neither was Bubbles, and no amount of search revealed them. She went back to Florence, who dried her tears and unburdened her heart, and then in her turn became alarmed about Dimple, since no amount of hunting disclosed her whereabouts.58
Mrs. Dallas was, herself, becoming much worried, when the door slowly opened and a disheveled little figure stood before them, with soaking garments and sodden41 shoes.
For a moment Dimple stood, then ran forward and buried her head in her mother's lap.
"Mamma," she sobbed, "it was all on account of the weather. I coaxed42 Florence out to the hogshead, and then we got wet, and didn't know how to get out of it, and we went up into the attic, and I felt naughty all the time, and we got mad, and oh dear! I wish the sun would shine."
"I am afraid from all I hear, that you have been the one to set all this mischief astir," said her mother. "I thought I could trust my little girl. Think, Dimple, what a day's work. You have tempted43 your cousin to do wrong, first by going out in the wet, and again by meddling44 with the clothing upstairs; then you hurt her feelings, and quarreled with her, and now you blame the weather for it all, besides setting a bad example to Bubbles. Where have you been, my child?"
"Trying to find Florence, mamma. I walked59 and walked, and I was so worried, and—oh, mamma, I thought all sorts of dreadful things. I went to the station, Florence, and I found out there that you hadn't really gone home; then I thought you were lost, or that the cars had run over you, or the gypsies had stolen you, or that—oh I'm so miserable," she caught her breath, and shivered with cold and excitement.
Her mother was unfastening her wet garments. She felt that Dimple's naughtiness had brought its own punishment. "I think Florence has changed her mind about going home," she said, quietly.
Dimple raised a tear-stained face. "Oh, Florence, have you?" she exclaimed. "I'm so glad. I don't want you to think I don't love you, for I do. I love you dearly, dearly, Florence, and I think your hair is lovely."
This was too much for Florence's tender heart, and she sobbed out, "It was my fault too, Dimple. I said hateful things, and I couldn't forgive myself when I thought you had gone, I didn't know where. I had no business to scare you so. Please, Aunt Flo, kiss us and forgive us, and please, for my sake, don't scold Dimple."60
Mrs. Dallas gathered the two little penitents45 into her loving arms. They were so truly sorry, and had suffered really more than they deserved. "I think Dimple sees her fault quite plainly, dear," Florence was told, "but I am afraid you will both be ill, and so I think I must put you to bed, not for punishment, but because you must be kept warm, and must have something hot to keep you from taking cold. Where is Bubbles, Dimple? Wasn't she with you?"
"Not all the time, mamma, but she came after me, and found me on the corner. Please don't punish her. She only went out because she wanted to find me."
"I understand that, and I know she did not mean to do wrong. She did what she felt to be her duty to you. I'll not scold her, nor punish her, daughter."
Dimple gave a sigh of relief, and pressed her wet cheek against her mother's. "Please kiss me, mamma," she whispered, "and then I'll know you forgive naughty me."
Mrs. Dallas immediately consented, and when she left the room, two very contrite46 little girls cuddled up close to each other, and took without61 a murmur47 the hot herb tea which Mrs. Dallas brought to them. And the next morning when they woke, lo! the sun was shining, and not an ache nor a pain did either little girl feel to remind her of the dreary48 yesterday.
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1
bout
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| n.侵袭，发作；一次(阵，回)；拳击等比赛 | |
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gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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sopping
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| adj. 浑身湿透的 动词sop的现在分词形式 | |
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4
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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waterproof
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| n.防水材料；adj.防水的；v.使...能防水 | |
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waterproofs
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| n.防水衣物，雨衣 usually plural( waterproof的名词复数 )v.使防水，使不透水( waterproof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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7
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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attic
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| n.顶楼，屋顶室 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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12
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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13
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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asylum
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| n.避难所，庇护所，避难 | |
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16
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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20
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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21
sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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25
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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27
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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28
repentance
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| n.懊悔 | |
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plights
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| n.境况，困境( plight的名词复数 ) | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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32
trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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penitence
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| n.忏悔，赎罪；悔过 | |
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37
dissuade
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| v.劝阻，阻止 | |
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38
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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40
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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41
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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42
coaxed
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| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的过去式和过去分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱 | |
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43
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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44
meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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45
penitents
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| n.后悔者( penitent的名词复数 )；忏悔者 | |
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46
contrite
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| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
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47
murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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48
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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