WHICH IS WHICH?
Mr. Lockwood had a habit of getting out of difficulties in this way. He frequently "washed his hands" of affairs, finding that they adjusted themselves somehow without his aid, after all.
But on this present occasion there was, perhaps, a special reason why he should tell his sister to go ahead, and leave the matter entirely with her and the twins themselves. Aunt Dora claimed to be able to tell the girls apart—something that nobody, not even Mrs. Betsey, had been able to do since they were little tots and Dora had worn a blue ribbon on her wrist, and Dorothy a pink.
The twins, who had heard all the foregoing conversation, and understood the situation thoroughly, advanced when their Aunt Dora turned to meet them.
"Kiss me, my dears," commanded the militant lady, opening her arms. "Dora, first!"
But the twins ran in together and one kissed her on one cheek while the other placed her salute on the other—and at exactly the same moment. Aunt Dora adjusted her eyeglasses, stood off a yard or so, and stared at the girls.
"Dora," she said, solemnly, "you are going home with me."
Neither girls changed color, or showed in the least that the announcement was either a pleasant one, or vice versa.
"Do you hear?" demanded their aunt.
"Yes, ma'am," they replied, in chorus.
"I spoke to Dora," said the lady, firmly.
Not a word said the twins.
"Which is which, Dora?" asked Mr. Lockwood, from the background, and perhaps enjoying his sister's discomfiture. "I declare nobody in this house has been able to tell them apart since they were in their crib. Mrs. Betsey declares she believes they used to exchange ribbons when they were toddlers, for she used to find the bows tied in funny knots."
The two girls looked at each other with dancing eyes, but said nothing. It had been their sport all their lives to mystify people about their several identities. And here was a situation in which they determined—both of them—to keep their aunt guessing.
"This is no matter for flippancy," said Aunt Dora, sternly. "I intend to take my namesake home with me, and to bring her up, educate her, and finally share my fortune with her. Do you understand this fully?"
"Yes, ma'am," replied the twins.
"I am speaking to Dora," their aunt said tartly.
The girls were silent.
"I am separating Dora from her sister for her own good. As you girls grow older you will find that the income your father has remaining will barely support one girl in a proper manner. To divide his responsibility is a kindness to him——"
"That is not so," interjected the mild Mr. Lockwood. "You are more than welcome, girls, to all I have. And—possibly—I might look about and get a little more money for you to use, as time goes on. If you need it——"
"We know all about it, Papa," chimed the twins. "We are satisfied."
"Does that mean you are satisfied to remain here, Dora?" demanded their aunt, insisting upon speaking as though but one girl heard her.
"We are both satisfied," chorused the twins, quickly.
"But I am not satisfied with the affair," declared Aunt Dora. "It has long been both my intention and desire to take my namesake—my godchild—away from here. While you two girls were small it was all very well to declare it cruel to separate you. But you are old enough now——"
"We shall never be old enough, Auntie, to wish to be separated," said one of the twins.
"Nonsense, child!" exclaimed Aunt Dora, her eyes sparkling as she thought she had at last obtained an inkling to the identity of the two girls. "You will soon get over all that, Dora—of course you will."
"I am sure I should not so soon get over separation from my sister," said the other girl.
Her aunt wheeled on this one. "Do you mean to tell me that you scorn my offer?"
"If I were Dora I should beg to be excused," returned the niece to whom she had spoken.
Aunt Dora whirled again and transfixed the other with decided satisfaction and a sparkling eye.
"But Dora, I feel sure, will go with her aunt gladly," cried the lady.
"If I were Dora I should beg to be excused," repeated the girl at whom she looked, in exactly the same tone, and with an unmoved countenance, too.
"I declare!" gasped Aunt Dora, in complete exasperation. "You've managed to get me puzzled, now. Which—which of you is t'other?"
"That is for you to find out, Auntie," said both girls in unison.
"You saucy minxes!" began the lady, but one of the girls said, quickly:
"Oh, no. We don't mean to be saucy. But we have agreed not to tell on the other. Father leaves it to us and to you, Auntie. Neither of us wish to leave our dear, dear home. Therefore we shall not tell you which is Dora, and which is Dorothy."
"That is quite true, Auntie," said the other twin.
"Well, I declare to Nature!" exclaimed their Aunt "Here I come offering Dora everything that a girl of her age should count as worthy—a home of wealth, a better education than she can get here in Centerport—college to follow—the open sesame into society—real society——And do you two girls mean to tell me that neither will say which is Dora?"
"That is exactly what we have agreed upon," said one of the twins, quietly.
"Then, let me tell you, Miss, I shall find out for myself!" exclaimed the angry lady. "I consider you at fault for this, Lemuel. Shows your bringing up. It is sheer impudence!"
"I—I have washed my hands of it, Dora," said her brother, weakly.
"Well, you can wipe 'em, too!" snapped the lady. "But I mean to take Dora home with me when I go back—and that will be very soon," and she whisked away in her rustling skirts, leaving the father and his two daughters alone.
They twined around the little man in a moment, the two winsome, loving girls—one upon one side, the other upon the other.
"You don't want to lose Dora, do you, dear?" demanded Dorothy.
"Nor Dorothy either?" demanded Dora.
"I certainly do not, my dear girls," cried the much harassed Mr. Lockwood.
"Then we shall not tell her. We shall tell nobody. Nobody shall know which is which—as long as Aunt Dora remains, that is sure," cried Dora.
"Exactly," agreed her sister. "As long as papa doesn't wish us to go——?"
"Never!" declared Mr. Lockwood.
"Why, we're never even going to get married!" ejaculated the other twin.
"Of course not," said her sister. "There couldn't possibly be two men just alike, and they'd have to be just alike to please us for husbands."
Mr. Lockwood laughed. It was the first happy sound he had made in two hours. His sister had arrived exactly two hours before.
"I know I can safely leave the whole affair to you girls," he said, gratefully. "Have it out with your auntie, if you must. But do, do leave me in peace."