"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 bonnet, 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 mustered up courage to answer, "Up here,
mamma."
"Where?"
"In the garret."
"What are you doing?"
"Just playing."
"Well, don't get into any mischief," 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 dressing up, and you shall too; but if you dare to tell on us--off
you go to the orphan asylum."
"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.
Pages:
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43