“Shall we go, Dot?”
“Yes, if you like.”
Dolly did not like, at all, but Mr. Fayre spoke up again. “Run along over, kiddies, and after a while, I’ll saunter over myself. I haven’t been there for a week, and I like to keep in touch with it.”
“All right, Dad. Come on, Dotty.”
The two girls went across the lawn, side by side.
“Wonder how Genie is,” said Dolly, with the laudable intention of “making talk.”
“She isn’t sick, you know,” returned Dotty, courteously. “The doctor isn’t sure it really is measles. But he’ll know in a day or two.”
They went into Treasure House. Something about the look of the place got on Dolly’s nerves. The lovely house, the dear furniture, the beautiful treasures, and then—the two owners acting like a pair of silly idiots,—it was too much! But, whereas yesterday, she had felt sad and distressed, the long trying hours had made her irritable and angry, and as the door closed behind them, she burst out, “I think you’re perfectly horrid, Dotty Rose!”
“So do I think you are, Dolly Fayre!”
“The idea of being mad at me, just because I want to do a deed of kindness for a friend!”