How very strange it was to Dotty that her father could read the secret thoughts which she herself could hardly have told!  She felt supremely wretched, and crept into his bosom to hide her blushing face.

“I didn’t say Adolphus did right to tease you,” said Mr. Parlin, gently.

He thought the little girl’s lesson had been quite severe enough; for, after all, she had done nothing very wrong:  she had only been a little foolish.

“Upon my word, chincapin,” said he, “we haven’t opened that basket yet!  What do you say to a lunch, with the Boston Journal for a table-cloth?  And here comes a boy with some apples.”

In two minutes Dotty had buried her chagrin in a sandwich.

And all the while the cars were racketing along towards Boston.

CHAPTER III.

A BABY IN A BLUE CLOAK.

Dotty had begun to smile again, and was talking pleasantly with her father, when there was a sudden rocking of the cars, or, as Prudy had called it, a “car-quake.”  Dotty would have been greatly alarmed if she had not looked up in her father’s face and seen that it was perfectly tranquil.  They had run over a cow.

This little accident gave a new turn to the child’s thoughts.  She gazed at the conductor with some distrust.  If he did not take care of the cars, what made him wear that printed hat-band?  She supposed that in some mysterious way he drove or guided the furious iron horse; and when she saw him sitting at ease, conversing with the passengers, she was not satisfied; she thought he was neglecting his duty.

“I s’pose,” mused she, finishing the final crumb of her sandwich,—­“I s’pose there are two kinds of conductors in cars, same as in thunder.  One is a non, and the other isn’t.  I’m afraid this man is a non; if he is, he will conduct us all to pieces.”

Still her fear was not very active; it did not prevent her having a good time.  She saw that her father was comfortable, and this fact reassured her somewhat.  If they were going to meet with a dreadful accident, wouldn’t he be likely to know it?

She began to look about her for something diverting.  At no great distance was a little baby in a blue cloak.  Not a very attractive baby, but a great deal better than none.

“Papa, there’s more room on the seat by that lady’s bandbox.  Mayn’t I ask to take care of her baby?”

“Yes, dear, if she is willing.”

Dotty danced down the aisle, thinking as she went,—­

“My father lets me do every single thing.  If we had mamma with us, sometimes she’d say, No.”

The tired woman greeted Miss Dimple cordially.  She was not only willing, but very well pleased to have the uneasy baby taken out of her arms.  Dotty drew off her gloves, and laid the little one’s head tenderly against her cheek.  Baby looked wonderingly into the bright eyes bending above him, reached up a chubby hand, caught Dotty’s hat, and twitched it towards the left ear.