Cornwall, who for more than a year had been very studious and unduly sedate, went everywhere; making repeated apologies to his mother for leaving her so much alone all the while declaring that he thought a thousand times more of her than any girl in the world.
She and Mrs. Neal became great friends. Mr. Neal said, when his wife was not at home he knew she was over at the Cornwalls', and John, who heard the remark, replied; "I am always coming over to your house hunting mother," at which the young crowd on the porch roared with laughter.
Dorothy was the most popular of the girls and in her bird-like way a beautiful little creature. A blonde of the purest type, of petite and perfect form, weighing about a hundred pounds.
Every boy that came to the house, at one time or another, gave her a great bouquet of roses or mountain laurel or a box of chocolates. Among themselves, they called her Dolly Dimples Durrett. All the household and the girls called her Dolly; even Cornwall unconsciously called her Dolly several times; once in Mrs. Neal's presence. After he left the house Mrs. Neal asked Dorothy when he began doing that. "Oh! He did it unconsciously; he is around and hears it so much; I am expecting every day to call him John and probably have. It doesn't mean anything. I'm almost sorry to say."
She seemed not to care in the least who of the boys was her cavalier, making it a point rather to keep the whole company entertained and in the best of spirits though Cornwall was most with her and they were such good friends as to feel privileged not to weary each other with forced conversation, taking time to think a little.
She was as vivacious and light of heart as a feathery summer cloud; and, I was about to say, reminding one of a butterfly; but there was nothing of the sedate, slow, hovery movement of that beautiful insect. Her's was an extremely animated, aggressive daintiness. She always seemed to be hovering near or peeping into a bunch of flowers or carefully selecting a piece of candy for her dainty little mouth.
Her costumes were filmy creations of silk or other soft fluffy stuffs that gave forth the iridescence and sheen of a perfect opal; a coal of unquenchable, oscillating ruby fire in the heart of a milky diamond. She was a gorgeous little humming bird. So John described her to his mother and she knew he had not found the girl he wished for his wife.
One Sunday Dorothy and Mr. and Mrs Neal came from church to dine with them.
After dinner, while the others sat in the cool, darkened library, Dorothy and John wandered about the yard and garden.
They passed a bed of flowers in full bloom, over which darted and poised a pair of humming birds. The flowers were not attractive to the eye or of pleasant odor; but the long corollas held a pungent, honeyed sweetness that attracted the birds and many insects. Its technical name was Agave Americana. The seed had been brought from Mexico by the former owner of the place who, after making a great fortune in mining, had first settled in Harlan, but moved away, as the place offered very limited opportunities for spending his income.