Dick and Dolly

Some ladies had the washing put off till Tuesday, but life at Dana Dene was far too methodical for that.

So when the club was expected, Delia tried to get her wash all hung out by noon, and so be ready to help in the afternoon. For, though the club didn’t assemble until three o’clock, and tea was served at five, there was much to be done in the way of prinking up the house for the occasion. The twins were allowed to help, and Dolly dusted, and brought water for the flower vases, and helped adjust fresh pillow-shams and bureau covers, until Aunt Rachel declared she didn’t know how she ever got ready for Reading Circle without Dolly’s help. And Dick’s as well; for he cut flowers, and ran lots of errands, and did lots of useful things.

And when, at about eleven o’clock, he saw the telegram boy coming with a yellow envelope, he took it and flew to Aunt Rachel with it faster than any one else could have done.

“For gracious goodness’ sake!” exclaimed Miss Rachel as she read it; “Aunt Nine is coming to dinner to-day!”

“To-day!” said Miss Abbie in a tone positively tragic, as she sank down in a big chair. “Why, she can’t, Rachel! It’s after eleven now, and the Reading Circle coming at three, and nothing but cold beef for dinner!”

“It doesn’t matter whether she can or not; she’s coming,” and Miss Rachel, who had turned fairly white with dismay, sat down opposite her sister.

“Who’s Aunt Nine? What a funny name!” cried Dick, dancing around in excited curiosity.

Dolly picked up the telegram, which had fluttered to the floor.

“‘Will arrive at twelve-thirty,’” she read; “‘meet me at the station.’”

“Why, it’s signed ‘P. Dana,’” said Dick. “How can P. Dana be Aunt Nine? How can it, Aunt Abbie?” He squeezed into the big chair beside Miss Abbie, and patted her cheek to attract her attention. “How can it? How does P. stand for Nine? Or do you mean nine aunts are coming? Oh, Doll, wouldn’t that be fun?”

“Tell me,” urged Dolly, squeezing herself into Aunt Rachel’s lap, “tell me first, auntie, ’fore Dick knows. Quick, tell me! Who’s Aunt Nine? What does it mean?”

“Oh, Dolly, for mercy’s sake don’t bother me now! She’s Aunt Penninah, your great-aunt, of course. We always call her Aunt Nine. And she’s the most particular, fussy, pernicketty old lady in the world!”

“Oh, she’s dreadful!” sighed Aunt Abbie. “We always spend weeks getting ready for her. She never came so unexpectedly before.”

“But the house is all in order,” suggested Dolly, anxious to be comforting.

“Yes, for the Reading Circle. But not for Aunt Penninah. She looks into every cupboard and storeroom, and, besides, we’ve nothing for dinner.”

“I’ll go get something,” offered Dick. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know! I don’t know!” groaned Miss Rachel. “Go and send Hannah here. And it’s wash-day, too! And the Reading Club! Oh, what can we do?”

But after the first surprise and bewilderment were over, the Dana ladies rose to the occasion, and did the best they could.

Michael was sent to town for supplies, Hannah was instructed to set the table with special elaboration, and Aunt Abbie herself went into the kitchen and whisked up a pudding.

Delia was still at her washing, and Pat was putting finishing touches to the lawn and flower-beds so they could not be disturbed.

The twins flew about in earnest endeavours to help, but after their breaking a cut-glass vase, and upsetting a small table of bric-à-brac, Aunt Rachel lost patience.

“Dick and Dolly,” she said, “you go upstairs and stay either in your own rooms or in your playroom until dinner is served at one o’clock! Do you understand? No; I’m not scolding, but I’m so put about that you two simply drive me distracted! Now obey me exactly, for that’s all you can do to help. Come down to the library at five minutes to one, – not a minute before. And see that you’re spandy clean, and very nicely dressed. Put on your blue lawn, Dolly, and tie your hair ribbons carefully.”

“Yes’m; Dick’ll tie ’em for me. He does it just lovely.”

Subdued by Aunt Rachel’s desperate manner, the twins crept away, resolved to be very good, and do exactly as they were told.

“It isn’t twelve yet,” said Dick; “no use dressing now. We’d only get all rumpled up. Let’s go up in the playroom.”

So up they went, and began to play with Lady Eliza.

“Hello, ’Liza!” cried Dick, shaking her wax hand cordially. “I haven’t seen you in some time. Are you well?”

“Pretty well,” said Dolly in a squeaky voice. It was part of their play that, whenever either twin spoke to Lady Eliza, the other twin was to answer for her.

“Pretty well. But I’m tired of this old frock, – I want a change.”

“All right,” said Dick; “we’ll fix you up. Let’s rig her up gay, Doll, and we’ll show her off to Aunt Nine.”

“All right,” and Dolly flew to the trunk that contained Lady Eliza’s wardrobe.

They selected an old-fashioned blue silk dress that Aunt Rachel had given them, and proceeded to array Eliza in it. Then Dolly dressed her hair. She loved to do this, for Eliza’s hair was very profuse, if not of very fine texture, and soon Dolly had built a fine array of puffs and curls, with a fancy ornament of blue and silver tucked in at the side.

Then, desiring to make her very grand, Dolly put a necklace of her own round Eliza’s neck, and added several long strings of beads, hung with various trinkets.

“How do I look?” said Dolly in the squeaky voice that always represented Lady Eliza’s talking.

“You look gay,” said Dick. “Perhaps this afternoon you’ll meet a grand lady, Miss Nine Dana. I hope you’ll behave properly.”

“Oh, I’ll behave lovely,” squeaked Eliza, and then the twins ran away to dress for dinner. By quarter of one they were all ready.

Dolly looked very sweet and demure in her frilly blue lawn, and her beautiful hair was tied with a big white bow which Dick had skilfully arranged. By practice his deft little fingers had conquered the science of tying bows, so Dolly’s hair ribbons were always marvels of correct proportions.

They had promised not to go to the library until five minutes of one, and the ten minutes intervening seemed interminable. They drifted back to the playroom to say good-by to Eliza, when Dick had an inspiration.

“Let’s take her down,” he said, “and put her in the dining-room to greet Aunt Nine when we all go out to dinner.”

“Let’s!” cried Dolly, and in a jiffy they were carrying the Lady Eliza Dusenbury silently down the back stairs. By good luck they didn’t encounter Hannah or the aunties, and they reached the dining-room in safety.

“Where shall we stand her?” said Dick. “In the bay window?”

“No,” said Dolly. “Let’s sit her at the table.”

“She won’t sit.”

“Well, we’ll sort of slide her under; if we put her in Aunt Rachel’s big chair she’ll be all right.”

They propped Eliza into the chair, and though she seemed to be falling backward in a swoon, her bright eyes and pink cheeks betokened good health. Her elaborate costume looked fine at the prettily set table, and Dick moved her arms about until they seemed extended in welcome.

“That’s fine!” said Dolly, nodding admiringly at the tableau.

“This is finer!” cried Dick, and taking the large carving-knife from the table, he thrust it into Eliza’s outstretched hand. This was easily done by sticking the knife handle partly up her long tight sleeve, and her effect, as she brandished the glittering steel, was now ferocious.

“Gay!” cried Dolly; “won’t they be s’prised! Come on, Dick, it’s five minutes to one.”

The twins, hand in hand, went into the library, and with their best curtseys were presented to Aunt Penninah.

“These are the children, Aunt Nine,” said Miss Rachel, and Dick and Dolly saw, sitting an a big armchair, the most imposing-looking personage they had ever met.