A Sweet Little Maid Part 9

"Oh, yes, thank you. Is there a telephone in the house?"

"Yes, and I can call up your father at his office. You can speak to him yourself, if you like. What time does he go home to dinner?"

"About half-past one o'clock."

Mr. Atkinson consulted his watch. "We shall catch him, I think." And in a few minutes Dimple, listening, heard her father's voice in reply to Mr. Atkinson's "Hallo! is that you, Dallas?"

"Don't you want to speak to him yourself?" asked Mr. Atkinson, when he had told Mr. Dallas that Dimple and her cousin were safely housed. He lifted the little girl up so she could call her father. "I'm safe here, papa, and so is Florence," she said; "please tell mamma."

The answer came, "I will, daughter; I'm glad you are in good hands. I'll tell mamma to send Bubbles for you when it has stopped raining."

"Let them stay till I take them home," spoke up Mr. Atkinson. "I can take care of them, and it will be a great pleasure to have them here."

"Very well, if you like. I shall be satisfied to have them in such safe hands. Good-bye," came Mr. Dallas's parting words.

"Good-bye," and Mr. Atkinson hung up the receiver, and turned to his guests. "Now, young ladies, I suspect you are hungry. I am, for one.

Suppose we see what we can find to eat." He took out his keys and unlocked the pantry door. The girls looked at each other. There were delightful possibilities before them.

"I'll forage in here," continued Mr. Atkinson, "while you set the table.

You'll find dishes in there." And he pointed to a china-closet.

This was such an unexpected outcome of the morning's affair, that the two little girls retired behind the door and hugged each other, and then briskly went to work to set the table, upon which Mr. Atkinson placed various articles.

"I keep a lot of such truck in here," he told them. "So, in case I get hungry, I can find a bite to eat. Do you like sardines or canned salmon best?"

"Sardines!" exclaimed both the girls.

"That settles it. We haven't any ice, or we could have some lemonade.

We'd better have chocolate. What do you say?"

"It would be very nice, but we have no fire."

"Fire enough. See here." He turned on the gas, and lighted a little stove over which the chocolate was made, condensed milk being at hand for use.

"Now, let me see. I've some ginger-snaps somewhere, and some marmalade.

This is rather a mixed meal, I am thinking, but it will keep us from starving."

"I should think so," said Florence, surveying the table. "I think it is fine."

"And we can wash the dishes afterward. Will you let us?" asked Dimple.

"I shall be charmed to have you," Mr. Atkinson a.s.sured her. "It was one of the points upon which I felt uncertain. I confess to disliking, very much, that part of the business; and now you relieve my anxiety."

They made a merry meal of it, and became very well acquainted with their host before it was over. He told them funny stories and kept them laughing so that they were a long time getting their appet.i.tes satisfied, and as it had become much cooler, Bubbles appeared with wraps for them before they had finished with the dishes.

"We have had such a lovely, lovely time," said Dimple, as she raised a beaming face to Mr. Atkinson. "You know just what to do to make little girls have a good time, don't you?"

He stooped and kissed her. "I had a little girl once," he replied, gravely.

Dimple put her two arms closely around his neck. She felt so very, very sorry when she remembered pretty little Stella. "I'd like to be your little girl, if I had to be any one's but papa's and mamma's," she whispered.

"Thank you, dear child, I appreciate that. It is a very great compliment," he answered, slowly. "I want you two little girls to come over whenever you can. I am always here on Sat.u.r.day afternoons. Will you come to see me often?"

"If mamma will let us. I'm afraid maybe she will not, because we were naughty about coming when we had no right to."

"Well, we'll see how we can manage it. I will tell your father about it, myself, or, better still, I will walk home with you, and you can tell your story to your mother, and let me beg pardon for you. How will that do?"

Dimple's eyes spoke her thanks, and she turned to Florence who answered with a satisfied smile.

And so by Mr. Atkinson's kind request the culprits were forgiven, and were promised that they should go again since Mr. Atkinson really wanted them. "And you must feel at liberty to play about the grounds all you choose," he told the girls. "They can run about, and sit on the porches and do as they please, so long as they do not trample the flower-beds, or get into any mischief," he said to Mrs. Dallas.

"We wouldn't hurt anything for the world," put in Florence and Dimple, eagerly. And they bade their good friend farewell, feeling very humble and thankful that matters had turned out so well for them.

"We don't deserve it, and I feel dreadfully ashamed of myself," said Florence, meekly.

"I think Mr. Atkinson put our heads in the fire," said Dimple, soberly.

"What do you mean?" her mother asked.

"Why, isn't that what the Bible says when any one does something very kind to you after you have been mean to him?"

Mrs. Dallas laughed. "You mean he heaped coals of fire on your head; that is the expression the Bible uses."

"It's a funny one," Dimple responded, thoughtfully. "Anyhow, mamma, I shall never, never try to break into any one's house again."

"I hope not."

"I really meant to ask you if we could go over there, mamma, but you had gone out. We were in a dreadful trouble for a while."

"Yes, I know, dear. One very little wrong beginning sometimes leads to a great deal of trouble; even grown people find that out."

"Do they? It always seems as if you must know everything, mamma."

She smiled and shook her head. Thus ended this incident, but neither Dimple nor Florence ever forgot it.

CHAPTER V

Rock

Florence and Dimple with Rubina and Celestine were on the back porch, when they heard some one whistle, and looking up they saw Rock coming around the corner of the house.

"Good-morning," said he, "I am glad you have your dolls here; I want to measure them."

"Why, are you a tailor?" asked Florence.