Beside her, Dorothy was rapidly munching her cake as she talked, and letting the crumbs fall where they might. Her black hair framed her rosy cheeks and her eyes snapped and sparkled as she gesticulated with both hands. It was Dorothy's habit to emphasise her remarks with expressive little motions, and her father often said that if her hands were tied behind her, she couldn't say a word!
Her pink lawn dress was rather tumbled by reason of her wriggling and jumping about, but Dorothy's frocks were rarely unrumpled after she had had them on ten minutes.
"We've been friends more than a week now," she said, as she finished her cake in one large bite and brushed a few stray bits out of her lap. "And I think you're just fine! I'm so glad we came to live in Berwick. I like you better than any girl I ever knew." Dotty spread her hands wide as if embracing all the girls who had figured in her previous existence. "Do you like me as much as that?"
As she spoke, she touched her toes to the floor and sent the swing up in the air with a mad jump.
"Oh!" gasped Dolly, as her cake flew out of her hand; "how – how sudden you are!"
"Never mind! Do you like me as much as I like you?"
"I don't know," and Dolly looked thoughtful; "I like you, of course, but I wish you'd sit stiller."
"Can't; I'm always jumpy. But you do like me, don't you, Dollyrinda?"
"Yes, but I can't hop into a liking the way you do. We're awfully different, you know."
"'Course we are! That's what makes us like each other. Just think, Dolly, we'll be fifteen soon. Don't you think we ought to be called by our full names and not Dolly and Dotty any more?"
"I don't know. Why?"
"Oh, 'cause we're too big for baby names. I'm going to stop wearing hair-ribbons."
"You are! How ever will you keep your hair back? And you've such a lot of it."
"I know. So've you. Why, I'll just braid it, and let the end flutter. But Mother says she won't let me till I'm sixteen. Well, we'll see. Do you want to grow up, Doll?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know anything! I never saw such a girl! Well, what are you going to do when you're fifteen?"
"I haven't thought about it. Do I have to do anything different from when I'm fourteen?"
"You don't have to! But don't you want to? What do you want to be when you're grown up?"
"Oh, then! Why, then I'm going to be an opera singer."
"Can you sing?"
"Not much yet. But Trudy says I have a nice voice and I'm going to learn."
"Pooh! I don't believe you'll ever sing in opera. I'm going to be an actress."
"Huh! Can you act?"
"Not yet; but I'm going to learn." Dotty smiled as she realised that their ambitions were at least equally promising. "Wouldn't it be fun if we did both get to be famous! Me an actress and you a singeress. But I may change my mind about mine. I do sometimes. Last winter I was crazy to be a trained nurse; but Mother wouldn't let me."
"Will she let you be an actress?"
"I haven't asked her yet. There's no hurry. I couldn't begin to study for it till I'm out of school. What are you going to get for your birthday?"
"I haven't decided yet. Mother said I could have my bedroom all done over or have a gold watch."
"Oh, have the room things. And I'll do the same! Do you know, when we moved into our house, I took a room on the other side, but I'm going to move across so I can be on this side toward you. And Mother is going to have the room done up for me, and I'm to choose the things. So you do that too, and we'll have 'em alike!"
Dotty had jumped out of the swing in her excitement, and stood at one side, her foot on the step, pushing it sideways.
"Don't do that, Dot, you'll break the swing."
"Well, will you? Will you choose the room fixings 'stead of the watch?"
"I don't know; I'll have to think."
"Fiddlesticks! Don't think! Jump at it, and say yes!"
"I believe I'd rather, anyway; it would be fun to have our things alike. I'll ask Mother."
"But she said you could have your choice."
"Yes, but of course, I'll talk it over with her. And Dotty, we don't want the same coloured things, you know."
"Why don't we?"
"Why, because we're so different. What colour do you want?"
"Oh, I've got it all picked out. I'm going to have rose and grey. It's all the rage. Rose pink, you know, and French grey."
"Well, I don't want that. I want pale green and white."
"You do! Why rose and grey is ever so much more fashionable."
"I don't care. I know what I want. Now, see here, – But do come and sit down! Don't climb over the back of the swing!"
Dotty jumped down from the back of the swing, and came around and seated herself beside Dolly. For nearly five minutes she sat quietly while they discussed the colours.
"But, don't you see," said Dolly at last, "it will be nicer for us to have our own colours and have the things alike. We can have just the same shape furniture and everything, only each stick to our own colour."
Dotty was persuaded, and they agreed that the two mothers could easily be brought to see the beauty of their plans.
And so it was. A neighbourly friendliness already existed between the households, and as the two birthdays fell so near together, it seemed fitting that the girls should have their gifts alike.
So the paperhanger was visited and Dolly chose a lovely paper of striped pattern, but all white; to be crowned with a border design of hanging vines and leaves in shades of green.
Dotty's paper was the same stripe, in soft greys; and her border was a design of pink roses and rosebuds.
Dolly's woodwork was to be painted white and Dotty's light grey.
The two sets of furniture were exactly alike, except that one was enamelled grey and one white.
Each room had a bay window, and the window seats were cushioned in green or rose, and the numerous pillows that graced them were of harmonious colouring.
The parents of the girls agreed that a fifteenth birthday was a memorable occasion, and one not likely to occur again, so they made the furnishings of the two rooms complete to the smallest detail.
Each had a large rug of plain velvet carpeting; Dotty's rose pink and Dolly's moss green. Window curtains of Rajah silk fell over dainty white ones, and pretty light-shades of green and pink, respectively, gave the rooms a soft glow at night.
Trudy contributed wonderful filet embroidered covers for dressing-tables and stands, and dainty white couch pillows, with monograms and ruffles.
Dotty's Aunt Clara gave each of the girls a picture, which they were allowed to choose for themselves. They took a whole afternoon for this, and at last Dolly made up her mind to take "Sir Galahad," and Dotty chose, after long deliberation, a stunning photograph of the "Winged Victory."
These, framed alike in dark, polished wood, were hung in similar positions in the two rooms.
Altogether, the rooms were delightful. It was hard to say which was prettier, but each best suited its happy owner.
There was quite a discussion as to when they would take possession, for everything was in readiness by Dolly's birthday, which was on the tenth.
"I'll tell you!" cried Dotty, with a sudden inspiration; "let's average up! Dolly's birthday is the tenth and mine the twentieth. Let's celebrate both on the fifteenth, that's half way between, and as we're fifteen anyway, it makes it just right!"
This was agreed to as a fine scheme, and then Mrs. Fayre electrified