"Didn't Rock make our dolls pretty hats?" she asked. "Mrs. Hardy, I wish he were my brother. He couldn't be, could he? Even if he could only be my cousin, I should like it."
Mrs. Hardy looked at Rock, who laughed and said, "That is more likely than the other."
"I don't see how," said Dimple.
"You will see," said Rock. But at a look from his mother he was silent.
They leaned back on the soft cushions, breathing the sweet air, spicy with the scent of the pines through which they were driving.
At Big Run they all begged to get out, to see if there were any fish in the water. They clambered about on the bank and over the stones, till Mrs. Hardy told them it was too late to stop longer, and they drove toward town.
After they had reached the house where Rock and his mother were boarding, they took off their hats and were ready for tea. They wondered if they were all to sit with Mrs. Brisk's family at the table, and dreaded it a little. However, when Rock said, "Come this way, girls," they were a little mystified, for he took them out into the garden.
Under a trellised summerhouse there was set a little table for three, and on the bench a very small table with two little chairs.
"That is for the dolls," explained Rock.
"Oh, Rock!" exclaimed the girls. "Where did they come from? Did you make them?"