Many of the strange words rang in her ears for weeks after wards, though she said nothing about them.
One day she rushed into the nursery out of breath.

Prudy was kneeling before her little trunk, putting in order the paper dolls, which Dotty had scattered over the floor.

They were a sad sight.

Some of them had lost their heads, and some had lost their fine clothes, which are worth as much as heads any day--to dolls.
But Dotty did not stop to look at the mischief she had made.

Her thoughts were of other matters.