expectantly, and stroked him beneath the chin. Shadow lifted his throat luxuriously and poured out his contentment in a ripple of rising and falling purrs.
“I didn’t think you liked cats, Sally,” said Aunt Sarah.
Sally peeked up at Aunt Sarah and smiled shyly. “Oh, but I do,” she said. And she wasn’t afraid of Shadow any more, she thought. He seemed so much like Mrs. Niminy Piminy.
But where was Mrs. Niminy Piminy? She looked into the mirror, but all that she saw was herself, and Shadow, and Aunt Sarah.
“Oh,” she sighed, “it must have been a dream.” “You did look as if you were dreaming,” said Aunt Sarah. “You looked happier than
I’ve
ever seen you. It must have been a good dream.”
“Oh, it was,” said Sally eagerly, “it was all about the other Sally, and Mrs. Niminy Piminy and the kittens.”
Her aunt was staring down at her. Sally’s heart jolted, and she felt quite dizzy with anxiety. She remembered that her aunt had told her not to come to the attic. Sally looked down at the clothes she was wearing. Aunt Sarah must be furious with her for putting them on! She probably thought she had torn them! She would punish her for taking all the things out of the trunk. Her eyes turned miserably to the untidy piles on the floor.
But her aunt, when she spoke, did not sound so much angry as puzzled. “Mrs. Niminy Piminy?” she said. “But how could you know? Oh I see!” she said as her eyes lit upon the little book that still lay open on the floor. “You read about her in the diary, I suppose. But come now, Sally, you’ve diddled and dawdled here quite long enough. It’s past time for lunch, and you have all these things to put neatly away. I hope you know how to be neat? And just look at your clothes over there in a pile, all wrinkled and dirty. What would your mother say?Hurry now and take all those old things off.”
Yes, thought Sally, getting unhappily to her feet, that sounded more like the Aunt Sarah she was used to. And yet, she didn’t sound nearly so furious as Sally had feared. And somehow, she wasn’t quite so afraid of her. “I must be getting used to her,” she thought. Besides, the happiness of her dream had stayed with her; yes, the
feeling
of her dream had come back with her, and she was finding it quite hard not to smile.
“Oh my!” cried Aunt Sarah as Sally rose to her feet and smoothed the long skirt.
Sally looked anxiously at her. What had she done now?
“Those clothes!” said Aunt Sarah. “Standing up like that, you look so much like — like the girl in the picture.” Her voice faded to a trembling whisper.
Sally continued to look at her aunt. How old she was! She hadn’t really noticed before that Aunt Sarah was really a very old lady. Perhaps not quite so old as Aunt Tryphone, but very old indeed.
After she had put everything back into the trunk, with her aunt’s assistance, and was changing back into her own clothes, her aunt asked, “What made you come up here, Sally? It seems to me that I asked you not to,” she added severely.
“I’m sorry,” said Sally in a voice muffled by the blouse she was pulling over her head. “I was looking for Elizabeth.”
“Did you say Elizabeth?” asked her aunt sharply as Sally’s head appeared over the top of the blouse.
Sally nodded. “The doll in the picture,” she said.
“Yes, I know,” said her aunt impatiently, “but the doll was lost a long time ago.”
Sally nodded. “I know. On Christmas Eve. I didn’t know that when I came up, but I read about it in the diary.” How funny, she thought, to be talking to Aunt Sarah like this, just as if she was anybody. “But I thought probably the other Sally found her after that.”
“Well, you ought to have asked me,” said her aunt. “I could have saved you a lot of trouble.”
Sally stopped tying her shoe and looked up.
“Because,” said her aunt, “the doll was never found.”
“Never?” Sally’s voice echoed her
“I didn’t think you liked cats, Sally,” said Aunt Sarah.
Sally peeked up at Aunt Sarah and smiled shyly. “Oh, but I do,” she said. And she wasn’t afraid of Shadow any more, she thought. He seemed so much like Mrs. Niminy Piminy.
But where was Mrs. Niminy Piminy? She looked into the mirror, but all that she saw was herself, and Shadow, and Aunt Sarah.
“Oh,” she sighed, “it must have been a dream.” “You did look as if you were dreaming,” said Aunt Sarah. “You looked happier than
I’ve
ever seen you. It must have been a good dream.”
“Oh, it was,” said Sally eagerly, “it was all about the other Sally, and Mrs. Niminy Piminy and the kittens.”
Her aunt was staring down at her. Sally’s heart jolted, and she felt quite dizzy with anxiety. She remembered that her aunt had told her not to come to the attic. Sally looked down at the clothes she was wearing. Aunt Sarah must be furious with her for putting them on! She probably thought she had torn them! She would punish her for taking all the things out of the trunk. Her eyes turned miserably to the untidy piles on the floor.
But her aunt, when she spoke, did not sound so much angry as puzzled. “Mrs. Niminy Piminy?” she said. “But how could you know? Oh I see!” she said as her eyes lit upon the little book that still lay open on the floor. “You read about her in the diary, I suppose. But come now, Sally, you’ve diddled and dawdled here quite long enough. It’s past time for lunch, and you have all these things to put neatly away. I hope you know how to be neat? And just look at your clothes over there in a pile, all wrinkled and dirty. What would your mother say?Hurry now and take all those old things off.”
Yes, thought Sally, getting unhappily to her feet, that sounded more like the Aunt Sarah she was used to. And yet, she didn’t sound nearly so furious as Sally had feared. And somehow, she wasn’t quite so afraid of her. “I must be getting used to her,” she thought. Besides, the happiness of her dream had stayed with her; yes, the
feeling
of her dream had come back with her, and she was finding it quite hard not to smile.
“Oh my!” cried Aunt Sarah as Sally rose to her feet and smoothed the long skirt.
Sally looked anxiously at her. What had she done now?
“Those clothes!” said Aunt Sarah. “Standing up like that, you look so much like — like the girl in the picture.” Her voice faded to a trembling whisper.
Sally continued to look at her aunt. How old she was! She hadn’t really noticed before that Aunt Sarah was really a very old lady. Perhaps not quite so old as Aunt Tryphone, but very old indeed.
After she had put everything back into the trunk, with her aunt’s assistance, and was changing back into her own clothes, her aunt asked, “What made you come up here, Sally? It seems to me that I asked you not to,” she added severely.
“I’m sorry,” said Sally in a voice muffled by the blouse she was pulling over her head. “I was looking for Elizabeth.”
“Did you say Elizabeth?” asked her aunt sharply as Sally’s head appeared over the top of the blouse.
Sally nodded. “The doll in the picture,” she said.
“Yes, I know,” said her aunt impatiently, “but the doll was lost a long time ago.”
Sally nodded. “I know. On Christmas Eve. I didn’t know that when I came up, but I read about it in the diary.” How funny, she thought, to be talking to Aunt Sarah like this, just as if she was anybody. “But I thought probably the other Sally found her after that.”
“Well, you ought to have asked me,” said her aunt. “I could have saved you a lot of trouble.”
Sally stopped tying her shoe and looked up.
“Because,” said her aunt, “the doll was never found.”
“Never?” Sally’s voice echoed her
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