Dick and Dolly

Dick, though embarrassed himself, was still more annoyed at Dolly’s discomfiture, and spoke up decidedly:

“We don’t mean to be uncivil, Mrs. Fuller. But we’ve never made fashionable calls before, and we don’t know quite how to talk. It’s so different in Chicago.”

“Different in Chicago! I should hope so. My dear Miss Dana and Miss Abbie, you’ll have your hands full with these little ones, won’t you?”

“At first,” said Miss Rachel with dignity. “But we hope to teach them.”

“And we want to learn,” put in Dolly, with an instinctive desire to stand by her aunt against this disagreeable lady.

“Then there’ll be no trouble, I’m sure,” said Mrs. Fuller, but though her words were all right, her tone was a little bit sarcastic, and the twins were conscious of a feeling of defeat, which was far from comfortable.

Then Jack Fuller came into the room.

He was a boy of ten, with fair hair, and a pale, girlish face. He, apparently, had irreproachable manners, and gave his hand to the Dana ladies with just the right degree of cordiality. Then, being introduced to Dick and Dolly, he came and sat on the sofa between them.

Instinctively, Dick felt that he never could like that boy. Jack had scarcely opened his mouth before Dick had dubbed him a “Miss Nancy.” He didn’t believe Jack could run or jump, or do anything that a boy ought to do.

“Do you like to live here?” said Jack at last, by way of opening conversation.

“Yes, we do,” said Dolly; “we’re going to have splendid gardens, – we’ve been digging all day. Don’t you love to do that?”

Jack looked at her with apparent surprise that a girl should care for such vigorous pursuits.

“I never dig,” he answered. “Mamma thinks it isn’t good for me.”

“How funny!” said Dolly. “I should think it would do you good.”

“Do you like to run and jump?” asked Dick, for there had been a pause, and he considered it his turn to “make talk.”

“Oh, not very much. I like quiet games. I play mostly by myself. Mamma won’t let me associate with many children. But I’m to be allowed to play with you. I know that, because you’re Danas.”

This was gratifying in a way, but somehow Dick wasn’t over-enchanted at the prospect.

“I hope you will,” he said; “but I’m afraid, – when we’re playing, we’re rather, – rather rampageous.”

“Rough, do you mean?” asked Jack, looking horrified.

“Well, we don’t mean to be rough exactly; but we’re sort of noisy and lively.”

“Well, I shall visit you all the same,” said Jack, with a resigned air, “for mamma said I should. I think I’m to go see you to-morrow afternoon at four.”

This specified date amused the Dana children, but Dolly said politely:

“That will be very nice, and I’m sure we’ll have a good time.”

And then the aunties rose to take leave, and they all went home again.

“You children must learn better manners,” said Aunt Rachel, as they drove homeward. “You horrified me to-day by your manner of speaking.”

“I saw we did,” said Dolly, humbly, “but I don’t see what we did that was wrong. I’m sure we didn’t mean to be bad.”

“You weren’t bad,” said Abbie, smiling at them, “but we want you to acquire a little more grace and elegance. You spoke, in Mrs. Fuller’s parlour, just as you would at home.”

“Oh,” said Dick, “I begin to see; you want us to put on society airs.”

Aunt Rachel considered a moment.

“While I shouldn’t express it in just that way,” she said, “that is about what I mean.”

“Well,” said Dick pleasantly, “we’ll try. But Aunty Helen always taught us to be just as polite when alone at home as when we were visiting or had company.”

“Auntie Helen isn’t teaching you now,” said Miss Rachel, grimly; “and I trust you’ll consider my wishes in the matter.”

“We will, Aunt Rachel, we truly will,” broke in Dolly, whose rôle was often that of pacificator. “You’re terribly good to us, and we want to do ’zackly as you want us to, but, you see, fashionable calls are new to us. We’ll do better next time.”

Dolly’s cheerful smile was infectious, and Aunt Rachel smiled back, and dropped the subject of manners for the present.

The next afternoon, promptly at four o’clock, Jack Fuller came to see Dick and Dolly. The twins had been grubbing in their gardens all day, and had been radiantly happy.

They loved flowers and learned quickly the elements of gardening that Pat taught them. And with their new garden tools of suitable size, they did real work after the most approved fashion. But at three o’clock they were called in to get ready for the expected guest. Dick grumbled a little, for it seemed hard to leave the gardens to get all dressed up just because a boy was coming!

“But you want to make friends in Heatherton, don’t you?” asked Aunt Rachel.

“Yes ’m; but I like boys who come over and play in every-day clothes; not rig up like a party.”

As for Dolly, she didn’t see why she had to leave the garden at all. Jack Fuller wasn’t her company.

But the aunts decreed that both twins should receive the guest properly, and so at quarter to four, two spick and span, but not very merry children sat in the library, waiting.

Jack came in, at last, and greeted the twins with the same formality he had shown in his own home. He responded politely to the elder ladies’ remarks and Dick and Dolly tried to be polite and do exactly as the others did.

After nearly half an hour of this stiff and uncomfortable conversation, Miss Rachel proposed that the twins take Jack out and show him their gardens. Glad to get out of doors, Dick and Dolly ran for their hats and the three children started out.

To the twins’ astonishment, as soon as he was out of the presence of the elder ladies, Jack turned into quite a different boy. His formal manner fell away, and he was chummy and full of fun.

“Let’s throw stones,” he cried. “See me hit that stone bird on the fountain.”

He flung a pebble with such true aim that it hit the stone bird on the wing, and roused Dick’s exceeding admiration, for he was not himself a superior marksman.

“Want to play knife?” asked Jack, pulling a new knife from his pocket; “or no, let’s go see your gardens first. Must be gay ones, from the fuss you make over ’em.”

But when he saw the playground that was planned, he was appreciative enough to satisfy the twins’ love of enthusiasm.

“It’s great!” he cried; “that’s what it is, great! I wish I had one like it.”

“Yes, won’t it be fine!” agreed Dick; “there’ll be a table in the arbour, and chairs, or benches, and we can have tea-parties, and everything.”

“Plant gourds on your arbour,” advised Jack. “All kinds are good, but the dipper and cucumber gourd grow the fastest. They’ll cover your arbour in a few weeks, I guess. Hercules club is a good fellow for that, too. Pat’ll know about ’em.”