on a clean white piqué. "Her eyes were all red."
"Maybe she was bad and her mother scolded her," said Dot.
At the supper table Aunt Polly listened to the story of the afternoon's drive, and heard about Mrs. Cook and the queer little house, but all the time she seemed to be thinking of something else. And there was certainly something seriously wrong with Linda. She scarcely ate any supper, and her eyes were red, as Meg said. Twaddles was sure she had the toothache. When he went out into the kitchen after supper he found her crying over the dishes, and she was cross to him and told him to get out of her kitchen.
"I guess Linda has the measles," reported the astonished Twaddles to the rest of the family, who were on the front porch.
"Yes, I guess she's sick," remarked Bobby. "She didn't want any cold chicken."
"Was she bad, Aunt Polly?" questioned Dot. "Did her mother punish her?"
"Well, Linda and I had decided not to bother
