“Good idea,” said Mr. Rose. “I think we’ll put the house just on the dividing line between your father’s ground and mine.”
“And Mother can hang a red flag out the window if she wants me in a hurry. Or if dinner is ready.”
“We might have a telephone,” suggested Dotty.
“We’ll see about that later,” said Mr. Rose. “You must remember that the expenses are counting up, and Mr. Fayre and I are not millionaires. But we want you to have a good substantial little nook for yourselves. Then, later, if we see fit to add a telephone or a wireless apparatus or an airship garage, we can do so.”
“All right,” returned Dotty with a satisfied grin. “Say, Doll, shall we bring our desks from our bedrooms?”
“No,” Mr. Rose answered for her. “Those are too flimsy and dainty; and besides, you’ll need them where they are. I shall ask the privilege of contributing two solid, sensible Mission desks of greenish tinge, with chairs to match. Then if you want to curl up on your window cushions to study you may, but there will be a place to write your compositions.”
“Lovely, Father! How good you are!” and Dotty fell on his neck, while Dolly possessed herself of his hand and patted it.
The two girls were equally fond of their fathers, but Mr. Rose was more chummy in manner than Mr. Fayre. The latter was devoted to his children, but was less demonstrative of his affection.
But Dolly well knew that her father would not be outdone in kindness or generosity and that he would give an equally welcome gift, as well as pay his share of the building expenses.
“All right, Mr. Rose,” she said, “if you do that, I’m sure father will furnish the dining-room with whatever we want.”