“Yes, we do,” said Dolly; “we’re going to have splendid gardens,—we’ve been digging all day. Don’t you love to do that?”
Jack looked at her with apparent surprise that a girl should care for such vigorous pursuits.
“I never dig,” he answered. “Mamma thinks it isn’t good for me.”
“How funny!” said Dolly. “I should think it would do you good.”
“Do you like to run and jump?” asked Dick, for there had been a pause, and he considered it his turn to “make talk.”
“Oh, not very much. I like quiet games. I play mostly by myself. Mamma won’t let me associate with many children. But I’m to be allowed to play with you. I know that, because you’re Danas.”
This was gratifying in a way, but somehow Dick wasn’t over-enchanted at the prospect.
“I hope you will,” he said; “but I’m afraid,—when we’re playing, we’re rather,—rather rampageous.”
“Rough, do you mean?” asked Jack, looking horrified.
“Well, we don’t mean to be rough exactly; but we’re sort of noisy and lively.”