A fear came over Prudy that the little runaway had not been punished enough.  But Dotty went on:—­

“It makes you feel as if you’d never be naughty again.  Now, if my mamma was always thumping me with a thimble, and scolding me so as to shake the house, I shouldn’t care; but when she is just like an angel, and forgives me, I do care.”

“I’m so glad, Dotty!  I think, honestly, mother’s the best woman that ever lived.”

“Then why didn’t she marry the best man?” asked Dotty, quickly.

“Who is that?”

“Why, Abraham Lincoln, of course.”  Prudy laughed.

“Yes; I suppose Mr. Lincoln was the best man that ever lived; but papa comes next.”

“Yes,” said Dotty; “I think he does.  And I’d rather have him for a father than Mr. Lincoln, ’cause I’m better ’quainted with him.  I shouldn’t dare kiss the President.  And, besides that, he’s dead.”

“You’re a funny girl, Dotty; but what you say is true.  Everything happens just right in this world.”

“Does it?” said Dotty, wrinkling her brows anxiously; “does it, now truly?”

“Yes, indeed, Dotty.  Anybody wouldn’t think so, but it does.”

“Then I suppose it happens right for me to be a bad girl and run away.”

“No, indeed, Dotty; because you can help it.  Everything is right that we can’t help; that’s what I mean.”

“Then I s’pose ’twas right for me to crawl through the cellar window,” said Dotty; “for I’m sure I couldn’t help it”

“O, dear me! you ask such queer questions that I can’t answer them, Dotty Dimple.  All I know is this:  everything happens just right in this world—­when you can’t help it.”

With which sage remark Prudy stepped out of bed, and began to dress herself.  Dotty planted her elbow in the pillow, and leaned her head on her hand.

“I don’t believe it happens just right for Mrs. Rosenberg to keep that dog, or to thump so with a thimble; but, then, I don’t know.”

“I’m hurrying to get dressed,” said Prudy.  “The first bell has rung.”

“Why, I never heard it,” cried Dotty, springing up.  “I wouldn’t be late to-day for anything.”

Prudy looked anxiously at her little sister to see if she was cross; but her face was as serene as the cloudless sky; she had waked up right, and meant to be good all day.  When Dotty had one of her especially good days, Prudy’s cup of happiness was full.  She ran down stairs singing,—­

“Thank God for pleasant weather! 
  Shout it merrily, ye hills,
And clap your hands together,
  Ye exulting little rills.

“Thank him, bird and birdling,
  As ye grow and sing;
Mingle in thanksgiving,
  Every living thing,
  Every living thing,
  Every living thing.”

Dotty was so anxious to redeem her character in everybody’s eyes, that she hardly knew what she was doing.  Mrs. Parlin sent her into the kitchen with a message to Norah concerning the turkey; but she forgot it on the way, and stood by Norah’s elbow gazing at the raisins, fruit, and other nice things in a maze.