“So it is!” said Dolly, gleefully; “we couldn’t go out to-day even with umbrellas! Do you s’pose it’ll clear by to-morrow?”
“Yes, I guess so. But it won’t stop all day to-day.”
“No, I don’t believe it will. So we’ll play up here to-day.”
Then the twins went into the big lumber room, where all sorts of old things were stored away.
“What’s that big boxy thing, face to the wall?” asked Dolly, looking at a plain black walnut affair, about as high as herself.
“Dunno; let’s turn it around.”
Dick pulled the thing out from the wall, which was quite easy, as it rolled on casters, and it proved to be entirely open on the other side.
It was about four feet high, and about three feet wide, and though something like a small wardrobe, it was divided into six equal compartments, each of which was lined with wallpaper.
“Why, Dick!” cried Dolly, “it’s a playhouse! A doll’s house, you know. I believe it was Aunt Abbie’s when she was a little girl. Do you s’pose there’s any furniture for it?”
“Must be; somewheres. Isn’t it gay? See the windows, they have real glass in ’em. This must be the kitchen with oilcloth on the floor.”