Dolly pondered, and then averred that she liked one for one thing and another for another. There ensued a lively discussion between her and Mr. Eberstein, in the course of which Dolly certainly brought to view some power of discrimination and an unbiassed original judgment; at the same time her manner retained the delicate quiet which characterised all that belonged to her. She held her own over against Mr. Eberstein, but she held it with an exquisite poise of ladylike good breeding; and Mr. Eberstein was charmed with her. The talk lasted until it was broken up by Mrs. Eberstein, who declared Dolly must go to rest.
She went up herself with the child, and attended to her little arrangements; helped her undress; and when Dolly was fairly in bed, stood still looking at the bright little head on the pillow, thinking that the brown eyes were very wide open for the circumstances.
"Are you very tired, darling?" she asked.
"I don't know," said Dolly. "I guess not very."
"Sleepy?"
"No, I am not sleepy yet. I am wide awake."
"Do you ever lie awake, after you have gone to bed?"
"Not often. Sometimes."
"What makes you do it?"
"I don't know. I get thinking sometimes."