“Red chiffon! You’d look fine in red chiffon at your age! Now, be sensible, Dotty, if you go to that dance, you must let your father take you, and you must wear one of your white summer dresses.”
“But, Mother, all the girls are going to have new dresses. Celia Ferris is going to have a white satin—”
“A white satin! for a High School girl! How absurd!”
“Well, I don’t want white satin, but I do want a new dress. Can’t I have it, Father?”
“Now, now, Dotty, don’t tease.”
“But, Father, can’t I?”
“Why, I should think you might. You’re a nice little girl. But, of course, it must be as mother says.”
“Say, yes, Mother, do say yes. Won’t you, Mother? Won’t you? Aunt Clara, you beg her to, won’t you? Won’t you, Aunt Clara?”
“Good gracious, child, stop teasing,” and Mr. Rose glowered at Dotty so very fiercely, that she knew he was not in earnest.
“Stop teasing, Dotty,” said Genie, her little sister. “You know very well that teasing won’t get what you want.”