“That’s no joke, either,” retorted Laurie, “about you putting my clothes on. You’re wearing one of my collars and my best socks right now, and—yes, sir, that’s my blue tie!”
“Wait a bit, partner! Where’d you get that shirt you’re wearing?”
“That’s different,” answered Laurie, with dignity. “Mine are all in the wash. Besides, it’s an old one and you never wear it.”
“I never get a chance to wear it!”
“It must be very convenient for you,” said Mrs. Deane, smilingly, “to be able to wear each other’s things. Polly, I guess there won’t be any one else in for a while; maybe they’d like to see your garden.”
Being assured that they would, Polly led the way through the back room, a pleasant, sunny apartment evidently combining the duties of kitchen and dining-room, and out to a little back porch shaded by morning-glories and nasturtiums that fairly ran riot over the green lattice. There was a braided rug on the floor and a small rocker and a tiny table on which were books and a magazine or two. The books were evidently Polly’s school books, for they were held together by a strap.
The twins liked that garden. It wasn’t very large, for when the peculiar Mr. Coventry had divided the estate he had placed the high board fence very close to the little frame dwelling; but perhaps its very smallness made it seem more attractive. Narrow beds encompassed it on three sides, and a gravel walk followed the beds. In the tiny square inside, a small rustic arbor, covered with climbing rose-vines, held a seat that, as was presently proved, accommodated three very comfortably.
But before they were allowed to sit down the boys had to be shown many things: the hollyhocks against the back fence, the flowering almond that had been brought all the way from the old home in New Jersey,—and had never quite made up its mind whether to die of homesickness or go on living,—the bed of lilies-of-the-valley that just wouldn’t keep out of the path and many other floral treasures. Nasturtiums and morning-glories and scarlet sage and crinkly-edged white and lavender petunias were still blossoming gaily, and there was even a cluster of white roses on the arbor, for, so far, no frost had come. The twins admired properly and Polly was all smiles, until suddenly she said, “O-oh!” and faced them reproachfully.
“You’ve just let me go on and be perfectly ridiculous!” she charged. “I don’t think it’s a bit nice of you!”