He said he remembered just how Edward Parlin and Mary Read looked when they stood before him in the bloom of their youth, and promised to live together as husband and wife.  They had seemed very happy then; but he thought they were happier now; he could read in their faces the history of fifteen beautiful years.  He did not wonder the time had passed very pleasantly, for they knew how to make each other happy; they had tried to do right, and they had three lovely children, who were blessings to them, and would be blessings to any parents.

It was here that Dotty felt the tears start.

“I’m not a blessing at all,” thought she; “he doesn’t know anything about it, how I act, and had temper up stairs with Johnny!  Johnny’s put my eyes out for it, and I’ll have to go to the ’Sylum, I suppose.  If I do, I shan’t be a blessing so much as I am now!  To anybody ever!”

By and by aunt Eastman presented the bride with a bridal rose, which looked as nearly as possible like the one she had given her at the first wedding, and which grew from a slip of the same plant.  Dotty could not see the rose, but she heard her aunt say she hoped to attend Mrs. Parlin’s Golden Wedding.

“I shall be ever so old by that time,” thought the little girl.  “Fifteen from fifty leaves—­leaves—­I don’t know what it leaves; but I shall be a blind old lady, and wear a cap.  Perhaps God wants to make a very good woman of me, same as Emily, and that’s why he let Johnny put my eyes out.”

Here some one came along and offered Miss Dimple a slice of wedding cake, which tasted just as delicious as if she could see it; then some one else put a glass of lemonade to her lips.

“Has my little girl a kiss for me?” said Mrs. Parlin, coming to the sofa as soon as she could break away from her guests.

The gentle “mother-touch” went to Dotty’s heart.  She threw her arms about Mrs. Parlin’s neck, wrinkling her collar and tumbling her veil.

“Take care, my child,” said Mr. Parlin, laughing; “do not crush the bride.  Everybody has been coming up to salute her, and you must understand that she does you a great honor to go to you and beg a kiss.”

“It is just like you, though, mamma.  You are so good to me, and so is everybody!  No matter how naughty I am, and spoil weddings, they don’t say, ‘You hateful thing!’”

“Would it make you a better child, do you think, Dotty, to be scolded when you do wrong?”

“Why, no, indeed, mamma.  It’s all that makes me not be the wickedest girl in this city, is ’cause you are so good to me; I know it is.”

Mrs. Parlin kissed the little mouth that said these sweet words.

“And now that I am blind, mamma, you are so kind, I s’pose you’ll feed me with a spoon.”

“You will surely be taken care of, dear, as long as your eyes are in this state.”

“But shan’t I be always blind?”

“No, indeed, child; you will be quite well in a day or two.”