“Oh, don’t give him my Alice-doll!” she begged.
“Silly child, what do you mean?” asked Agnes.
“Well, doesn’t that Chinaman want a hundred dolls?” asked Dot, tears coming into her eyes. “We haven’t got that many—not even Tess and me together. And, anyhow, I won’t give that Chinaman my Alice-doll and I don’t see why they call ’em Chinamen anyhow, ’cause they aren’t made of china. But he can’t have my Alice-doll!”
“He doesn’t want her, Dottie!” explained Ruth. “That’s just his way of saying dollars.”
“Oh! Are you sure?”
“Certainly she is,” put in Agnes. “And, Ruth, if you let these children stay up any later, eating ice cream and cake, they’ll be sick to-morrow and you’ll have to look after them alone, for Neale and I are going away.”
“Oh, are you, indeed?”
“Yes. But, seriously, Tess and Dot ought to go to bed.”
Instantly the little ones began begging for a half hour more, but Ruth decided that Agnes, for once, was right, and off to bed they were sent.
“I s’pose that means I’ve got to go,” sighed Sammy.