“You’re not—you’re not a fairy, are you?” said Dolly, hopefully, yet sure she wasn’t one.
“Oh, no,” said Pinkie, laughing. “I’m just a little girl, but I—I ran away, and so I don’t want to tell you my name.”
“Oh, I don’t care,” said Dolly, who was always willing to accept a situation. “Never mind about that. Let’s play house.”
“Yes; let’s. You keep this place, ’cause you’ve fixed your table so nice, and I’ll live over here.”
Pinkie selected another choice spot for her home, and soon the two families were on visiting terms.
Dolly and her daughter, Arabella, went to call on Pinkie and her daughter, Araminta, and as they had already selected the names of Mrs. Vandeleur and Mrs. Constantine, their own names didn’t matter anyway.
Dolly was Mrs. Vandeleur, because she thought that title had a very grand sound, and Pinkie chose Mrs. Constantine because she had just come to that name in her “Outlines of the World’s History,” and thought it was beautiful.
So Mrs. Vandeleur rang the bell at Mrs. Constantine’s mansion, and sent in two green leaves, which were supposed to be the visiting cards of herself and her daughter.
“Come in, come in,” said Mrs. Constantine, in a high-pitched voice. “I’m so glad to see you. Won’t you sit down?”
Dolly sat down very elegantly on the root of a tree, and propped Arabella against another.