Aunt Dora whirled again and transfixed the other with decided satisfaction and a sparkling eye.
"But Dora, I feel sure, will go with her aunt gladly," cried the lady.
"If I were Dora I should beg to be excused," repeated the girl at whom she looked, in exactly the same tone, and with an unmoved countenance, too.
"I declare!" gasped Aunt Dora, in complete exasperation. "You've managed to get me puzzled, now. Which—which of you is t'other?"
"That is for you to find out, Auntie," said both girls in unison.
"You saucy minxes!" began the lady, but one of the girls said, quickly:
"Oh, no. We don't mean to be saucy. But we have agreed not to tell on the other. Father leaves it to us and to you, Auntie. Neither of us wish to leave our dear, dear home. Therefore we shall not tell you which is Dora, and which is Dorothy."
"That is quite true, Auntie," said the other twin.
"Well, I declare to Nature!" exclaimed their Aunt "Here I come offering Dora everything that a girl of her age should count as worthy—a home of wealth, a better education than she can get here in Centerport—college to follow—the open sesame into society—real society——And do you two girls mean to tell me that neither will say which is Dora?"
"That is exactly what we have agreed upon," said one of the twins, quietly.