"Is he yours? How did you get him?"
"Came," Chris explained with brevity. "What's up?"
"Guess—only guess! I'll give you—twenty guesses!"
"New doll?"
"No, it isn't a new doll—not exactly."
"Well, you may as well say. New frock, I suppose," with calm disdain.
Hecla whirled again, three times round. "No, it isn't a new frock," she cried gleefully.
"Then I don't know what it is. Girls only care for dolls and frocks."
"It's—it's—Chris, it's the loveliest news! Only think! A dear little darling girl is coming to live with us. Really to live with us, Chris. A real, true cousin!" By which, she rather unkindly meant to point the difference between this connection and the sham relationship which Chris enjoyed.
But the arrow fell harmless, for Chris was sublimely indifferent to cousinships.