The next minute he was standing straight in confused astoundment. Dot had dealt him a passionate box on the ear, and fled from the room. CHAPTER IV THE 'LITTLE MOTHER' 'Kiss and be friends, like children being chid.' It was unwritten law that thunder storms at the cottage should never travel to the house. But when Dot hurried up the drive and burst into the dining-room with a scarlet face and glowing eyes, the mother was afraid something was wrong. 'Why, it's Thursday, Dot!' she said, 'I was just coming down.' Dot took off her wide brimmed hat and fanned herself for a moment. 'There was curry cooking in the kitchen,' she said; 'onions, pah!' 'How's the baby, why didn't you bring him?' asked the little mother. 'Oh, bother the baby,' said Dot. 'Is Larrie's neuralgia better?' the mother ventured after a little pause. And 'bother Larrie,' was Dot's wifely response. The mother got out the twenty-seventh pair of boots she was knitting for baby, and worked two rows in silence. She wondered if it was Larrie's fault or Dot's. Larrie's she was sure. She wished Dot was her one little girl again, so she could take all the troubles for her. 'How did Peggie like the new soap I left her?' she said, anxiously flying from topics that made Dot's brows frown. 'Bother Peggie,' said Dot. 'She washed baby's nightgowns with it, and the whole world's placarded with advertisements that say don't. Idiot!' 'The oranges are ripening beautifully,' said the poor little mother. Dot went over to her and kissed her passionately. 'You're the best woman in the world,' she said. Tears of quick pleasure sprang into the mother's eyes. '_My_ little girl,' she said softly. She held Dot from her a minute, and scanned the flushed face with eyes that saw everything. 'I wish I was,' Dot said, in a stifled tone, 'just yours.' Anger crept into the mother's big eyes. 'Has Larrie?'--she said, 'Larrie, has he--does he?'--indignation overcame her. 'Oh no,' said Dot, ashamed of so nearly infringing the law. 'Larrie's all right--what are you running your head against, small woman?' 'He is good to you?' suspiciously. '_Very_ good.' She got up and went to the piano. 'I came to have a good practice,' she said. 'One can't with baby about.' She screwed up the stool, opened the lid, and got out a pile of music. Wagner was at the bottom of the canterbury, and she sought for him, and then attacked him with level brows. By the time she had made ten mistakes, and the little mother's head was aching, there was the click of an opening gate. 'I--' said Dot, 'I--think I shall go home.' She jumped up and peeped through the Venetian. 'Baby may want me, and--and--if Larrie should happen to come in, you needn't say I've been; he thinks I walk too much.' She gave her mother a hurried kiss on the top of her cap, and slipped out of the back door and across the paddocks to the train.