At first all went well. The aunts felt so sorry for poor little Theodora when she was left for the first time in her life without her parents that they vied with one another in their efforts to make her happy. Miss Thomasine unpacked her dolls and carried them carefully downstairs, smelling strongly of camphor, and seeming to blink their round, unseeing black eyes in the unaccustomed glare of day.
But Theodora only looked at them with a languid curiosity, spoke of their being so "funny and old-fashioned," and then sneezed from the fumes of the camphor, and turned away.
Miss Joanna unlocked the corner cupboard and brought out her own china tea-set, unplayed with now these fifty years. But Theodora almost laughed at the clumsy shape of the sugar-bowl, and then accidentally broke it, upon which Miss Joanna locked them all up again with an air which showed that Theodora had handled them for the last time.
Miss Melissa then produced some books, which her niece seized upon with avidity. But she soon declared that she did not care for that kind of story (they were some of Miss Edgeworth's tales), that Rosamond was a perfect goose to think the purple vase was worth having. She, Theodora, would have known better the moment she saw it. She would have discovered at once that it was filled with a purple powder, and was really nothing but plain glass.
Had not her aunts any boys' stories? She liked them best. Upon which the five Misses Middleton looked at one another, and mentally held up their hands in horror and dismay. And soon, all too soon, was it discovered that the only things which really made Theodora happy were boys and boys' games and boys' books.
Miss Middleton herself, in the solemn conclave which took place upon the morning when this story opens, was courageous enough to put the matter into words.
"I verily believe," said she, "that our niece Theodora is what is called a—a tomboy!"
"Sister!" cried they all, while four pairs of hands were uplifted and then dropped into four silk laps; and Miss Middleton, having made this statement, looked distinctly relieved.
"And the worst of it," said Miss Joanna, "is that I strongly suspect we have brought it upon ourselves. In order to save ourselves the trouble of providing entertainment for Theodora, we actually suggested—one of us did—that she should be allowed to play with the Hoyt children."
Here she glanced severely at her sister Dorcas. Miss Dorcas made no reply, but she looked guilty, and dropped a stitch in her knitting.