"I don't love my home, 'cause I live there; I don't love nothin'.

O, hum, suz!" Then Dotty wandered into the nursery, and stood all alone, leaning against the lounge.
"I shouldn't think my mother'd let me be so cross," mused she.
She did not cry, for she had learned very young that crying is of no use; and it may be, too, that she had only a small fountain of tears back of her eyes.

Prudy, entering the nursery in eager haste, for her "bean-bags," was touched at sight of her sister's sad face.
"There, now, I'll put back my bean-bags, and try to make her happy," said Prudy to herself.

"That will be following the Golden Rule; for it's doing unto Dotty as I want Susy to do unto me, when _I'm_ sick." She went quietly up to Dotty, who still stood leaning gloomily against the lounge.

The child turned around with a sudden smile.