"How lovely to have brothers!" remarked Viola. "I am all alone at home."
"It must be lonely," sympathized Dorothy, "but then, you can have everything your own way."
"Just like lying abed on a holiday," said Viola, "one never enjoys it. I believe we always want what we cannot get, and scarcely ever appreciate what we have."
"I find it that way sometimes," admitted Dorothy, "but to make sure I am not mistaken I often suppose myself without that which I fail to appreciate. It is a good test of one's real self, you know."
"But a lot of trouble," sighed Viola. "I take things as they come—and always want more, or to be rid of some. But I have one real love, and that's music. I was called Viola because my dear grandfather was a celebrated violinist, and perhaps that is why I have such a passion for music."
"Do you play?" asked Dorothy, interested.
"Yes, I study the piano and violin, but of course I like the violin best. There is one of your cousins—"
"Nat!" called Dorothy, as that boy ran across the lawn. "Come over here a minute, if you can spare time from that un-understandable game."
"Don't you know that game?" asked Nat, coming up to the rustic bench upon which the two girls were seated. "Why, I'm surprised. That is a genuine American game 'Follow the Leader.'"
"Let me introduce you to a friend," began Dorothy, indicating Viola. "This is Miss Green—Mr. Nat White."