“Well, they won’t any more,” interrupted Dotty, who was cut to the soul by these remarks. Well she knew whose suggestions and whose glances had brought about the sad state of things.
“And now,” said practical Dolly, “I’m going to straighten up this room a little. You may have more callers.”
She whisked away the bowl and bottles into the bathroom. She straightened the shades, dusted a little, and with a few deft touches here and there, she made the room tidy and neat. She found a glass vase which she washed, and setting it on the table, said, “We must go now, Miss Partland, but I’m going to send you a few flowers, and I want you to put them in this vase, and set them right here on the table, will you?”
“Indeed I will, you dear child. You’re dear little girls, both, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you for your pleasant call. I can’t promise to wear this elaborate gown every day, but I will buy myself one that is more presentable than the one I had on when you came.”
“And have it pretty, Miss Partland,” begged Dolly; “pretty things keep you from getting sick.”
“I wonder if they do, you little rascal; how do you know?”
“Well, maybe they wouldn’t keep you from getting chicken pox, they didn’t me, but I’m just sure they’re good for nervous prostration.”
“I shouldn’t wonder a bit,” and Miss Partland smiled brightly as she bade the girls good-bye.
“Now I’m going to get her some flowers,” said Dolly as they reached the street. “I haven’t much left of my allowance, but I can get her half a dozen carnations or two roses. Which would you, Dot?”
“Carnations, I guess. They last longer. I’m going to get her a couple of fruits. Say, a grapefruit and an orange, how’s that?”