“He is a wonderful singer,” praised the girl. “I’ve been wishing I could go to hear Caruso; I’ll have to come and hear this one instead.”
“Yes, do come—any time!” urged Doodles. “But why don’t you go and hear the other, if you want to?”
The girl laughed. “It costs money, sweetheart.” Her blue eyes grew wistful. “Everything nice costs money.” She turned to go.
“I’m ever and ever so much obliged to you for the name,” Doodles hastened to say. “I don’t know yours,” he suggested.
She had come back, and was looking down at him, a half-smile on her pretty lips.
“No, you don’t, do you!” she replied gayly.
“I THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE IT”
“It is Dorothy”—a shadow passed over the bright face—“Rose.”
“What a pretty name!” chirped Doodles. “I’m so glad you told me.”