"Oh!" cried Bettie, "it's only Mr. Black."
"Were you looking for something?" asked Mr. Black.
"Yes," said Bettie. "We're looking for a house. We'd like to rent this one, only we haven't a scrap of money."
"And what in the name of common sense would you do with it?"
"We want it for our dolls," said Bettie, turning a pair of big pleading brown eyes upon Mr. Black. "You see, we haven't any place to play. Marjory's Aunty Jane won't let her cut papers in the house, so she can't have any paper dolls, and I can't play any place because I have so many brothers. They tomahawk all my dolls when they play Indian, shoot them with beans when they play soldiers, and drown them all when they play shipwreck. Don't you think we might be allowed to use the cottage if we'd promise to be very careful and not do any damage?"
"We'd clean it up," offered Marjory, as an inducement.
"We'd mend the rat holes," offered Jean, looking hopefully at Bettie.
"Would you dig the weeds?" demanded Mr. Black.
There was a deep silence. The girls looked at the sea of dandelions and then at one another.
"Yes," said Marjory, finally breaking the silence. "We'd even dig the weeds."