“It’s horrid,” said Dick, “to be shut up in this stuffy old place on a day like this; but let’s get all the fun we can out of it.”
“Let’s,” agreed Dolly, and as a starter they rambled through the old, unused rooms, and looked at the old pictures and discarded furniture stored there.
“Awful poky!” said Dick as they sat down on a haircloth sofa, and stared at each other.
“Yes,” said Dolly, with a scowl. “I think Aunt Nine is a horrid——”
“Don’t talk that way, Doll,” said Dick, remembering his conversation with the old lady; “just forget it,—forget outdoors and flowers and everything,—and let’s play something nice.”
“What can we play?” asked Dolly, disconsolately.
“I dunno; but isn’t it funny why we can’t think of something? If it was a rainy day and we couldn’t go outdoors, we’d have lots of fun in the house.”
“Well, let’s play it’s raining then.”
This was a distinct suggestion, and Dick caught it at once.
“Wow!” he cried, looking out of the window; “what a storm! It’s just pouring!”