ould_; and Mrs. Harlow politely declared they should all be delighted.
But how would she behave at the table? Her manners were as yet unformed;
she needed line upon line and precept upon precept. It was dreadful to
think of her taking supper at one of the nicest houses in the city, in
that dress, and without her watchful mother too! It was a severe trial
to Susy. Prudy was also distressed, but her "sky-like spirit" brightened
again speedily.

The little girls all crowded about Dotty, begging her to join in their
games; but she said it would "hurt her big bonnet," which she could not
be persuaded to take off, because she fancied it added something to her
importance.

Fanny Harlow brought out a picture book for the little runaway.

"I'm afraid she'll tear it," said careful Prudy.

Dotty looked at her sister with a withering glance, and, in her
eagerness to prove that she knew how to handle books, suddenly tore one
of the leaves. She was surprised and mortified; but her self-esteem was
not easily crushed.

"There, Prudy," said she, pertly; "what made you let me do it for? You
_said_ I'd tear it!"

Mrs. Harlow hastened supper, fearing that Mrs. Parlin might be anxious
about her little daughter. Dotty was placed between her two sisters.
Susy pinned a napkin about the child's neck, and in a whisper begged to
be allowed to spread her bread and butter for her. Dotty had worn the
air of a princess royal all the afternoon; but now, seated in a high
chair, and surrounded by a group of admiring little girls, she felt
like a crowned queen. Taking her bread in both hands, she crumbed it
into her goblet of milk, and began to dip it out with the handle of her
fork. The girls looked on and smiled, and Dotty gave a little purr of
satisfaction.

"Everybody'll think mother doesn't teach her good manners," thought poor
Susy, hardly knowing whether she ate bread or ashes.

"Dear, dear," said Prudy to herself; "Dotty may die some time, and then
I should be sorry, and cry. I'll keep thinking of that, so I can bear
her awful actions better."

The little princess, from her throne in the high chair, did very rude
things; such as coughing and blowing crumbs into her plate, drumming
with her feet, and beating time with her fork and spoon. When bread was
offered, she said,--

"I don't like _baker's_ bread. I like _daily_ bread."

But this was all the remark she made during the whole meal. At last she
ceased eating, coughing, and drummi