"I know Annie a little, but you see I haven't lived here since I was a baby. We have been travelling about a good deal, so I haven't had a chance to know many people. Mamma wanted me to come this afternoon."
There was something exceedingly pleasant in her straightforward manner.
"I don't care much for parties myself," said Carl, "but if you want to get acquainted you must not stick in a corner."
"What must I do?" Dora asked, smiling.
"Well, to begin with, you make friends with somebody who knows somebody else, and so on. It is very easy."
"Then I have begun with you, though I do not know your name."
"Very well, here goes! My name is Carl Hazeltine, the girl over by the oak tree is my sister Louise, the boy with her is Isaac Ford—the one who is laughing I mean; next to him is Elsie Morris, and that fellow coming this way is Aleck Hazeltine, my cousin, and—"
Dora put out her hand appealingly. "I can't possibly remember so many, and I haven't told you my name. It is Dora Warner."
"We used to have a cat named Dora," Carl remarked gravely, taking a small round glass from his pocket and composedly surveying his necktie, "a nice, white, meek little pussy cat."
"I had a dog once, when we were in London, named Carl—o. He was a curly dog and ever so vain when we tied a ribbon on his collar," was the prompt response. Then they both laughed merrily, and Carl asked with friendly interest, "Were you really in London!"