"Dick," I said. "Dick! What are you going to do? Oh, Dick!"
I said it timidly, for although little brother Dick was only six, and I was nine, he was nearly as big as I was. And he was always masterful. But he didn't repulse me this time, so I kissed him on his ear, and rubbed my head against his shoulder, just to let him know that I loved him. Somehow I thought that he would like to be loved just then. And wonder of wonders he rubbed back!
"When I come home—" Dick said. "When I'm a rich man, sister, I'll buy you some nice things. I'll buy you some candy, and a pretty dress. And I'll buy you some guinea-pigs! I guess you'd like to have some guinea-pigs, wouldn't you, sister?"
I didn't care a rap for guinea-pigs, but I nodded at him just to comfort him. I felt that I should like an elephant if Dick bought it.
"And we'll build a nice house for them in the backyard," Dick went on, evidently cheering up at the prospect. "Under the walnut-tree. And there'll be fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers, and little weany, weany ones, all white and pink!"
"But where are you going, Dick?" I demanded.
His face fell.
"I'm going through the Green Door," he said, doggedly.