"Miss Gracie," she asked, as she followed Grace down the stairs, "what fo'
you shut ole Tab up in de dressin'-room? She's done gone an' broke Miss
Wilet's bottle what hab de stuff dat smell so nice, an' cose Miss Wilet
she don' like dat ar."
"What makes you say I put her in there, Betty?" said Gracie.
"Kase I seed you, he, he, he!"
"Did you?" asked Gracie, looking still more alarmed than at the summons to
the dressing-room. "Don't tell mamma, Betty. I'll give you a penny and
help you make a frock for your doll if you won't."
Betty's only answer was a broad grin and a chuckle as she sprang past
Gracie and opened the door for her.
Violet, seated on the farther side of the room, looked up with her usual
sweet smile. "See, Gracie dear, I am making a lace collar for you, and I
want to try it on to see if it fits."
"Now, Betty, get a dust-pan and brush and sweep up that glass. Don't leave
the least bit of it on the carpet, lest some one should tramp on it and
cut her foot."
"Some one has broken that cut-glass perfume bottle you have always admired
so much, Gracie. Aren't you sorry?"
"Yes, I am, mamma.
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