She was conscious of steadily pursuing footsteps behind her, but she did
not turn to look until the feet came nearer and nearer and a soft
plaintive 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's 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 trotted
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, den yuh
might tek on.
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