"Four, now," answered Florence. "I had five, but Gertrude broke one. Gertrude is such a mischief, I have to keep all my things locked up. I hope to goodness they won't let her get at them while I'm away."
"Oh, you must make a traveling dress for your Celestine. I have a piece of grey linen that will just do."
By the time the dinner bell rang, both the dolls were dressed gorgeously.
"Aren't they lovely, papa?" said Dimple, as she hobbled out to meet him.
"Yes; they look like two butterflies," he said, lifting her up, doll and all.
"Are you having a good time, Florence? I hope Dimple hasn't pinched or scratched you yet."
"Why, papa," said Dimple, looking very much hurt. "Florence will think I am a regular little cat," but seeing a twinkle in his eyes, she knew he was only in fun, and was consoled by the kiss he gave her as he put her in her chair at the table.
There was a long afternoon before them, and, although Dimple could not walk very well with her bandaged foot, she managed to get down to her favorite place, under a big tree, where the grass was long and thick.
"Now we can play beautifully with our dolls, Florence," she said, "and have no one to disturb us, for Bubbles doesn't count. She has to be in the kitchen for a while anyhow."
They had not been out very long before Bubbles came running to them. "There is a lady and a boy in the house, Miss Dimple," she said, "and your mamma's a bringin' the boy out hyah."