“Yes, Michael will help you. He’ll fix a good workbench, for you, Dick, if you’re fond of fussing with tools. Do you cut your fingers much?”
“Sometimes, Aunt Rachel, but not always. Say, you’re awful good to us. We’re ever so much obliged.”
Dick was more awkward at expressing his appreciation than Dolly, but the honest joy on the boy’s face showed his admiration of the room, and Aunt Rachel’s heart warmed toward him, for she too was sometimes unable to express herself aptly.
“Now we’ll skiddoo,” said Dolly, as she patted Miss Abbie’s hand by way of farewell. “We want to see Pat feed the chickens.”
“Yes, dearie, run along, but,—would you mind if I ask you not to use those—those unusual words?”
“Skiddoo? Oh, that’s an awful useful word, Aunt Abbie. I don’t see how I could get along without it, but I’ll try if you say so.”
“Yes, do try, Dolly; I want my niece to be a refined, ladylike little girl, not a slangy one.”
“Yes’m.” Dolly drew a little sigh. “I want to do what you want me to do. But I’m pretty forgetful, Aunt Abbie, so don’t be ’scouraged, will you, if I don’t get good all at once?”
Dolly had a childish trick of omitting the first syllable of a word, but Aunt Abbie kissed the earnest little face, and assured her that she wouldn’t get ’scouraged.
So away the twins scampered, down the stairs, and out into the sweet, clear morning air.
Dana Dene stood high on an elevation that looked down on the small town of Heatherton. The view from the terrace in front of the house was beautiful, and as Dick and Dolly looked down at the clustered buildings they tried to guess what they were.
“That’s the church,” said Dick, triumphantly pointing to an unmistakable spire.
“One of ’em,” corrected Dolly; “there’s another, and I wonder what that big stone building is; prob’ly the school where we’ll go.”
“Well, no, Master Dick; that isn’t exactly the school fer ye children. That’s the jail,—the county jail, so it is.”
“Oh,” cried Dolly, in dismay; “I don’t want to go to school to a jail! Where is the school-house, Patrick?”
“There’s three of ’em, Miss Dolly. But the grandest is that white house ferninst, an’ I’m thinkin’ ye’ll go there.”
“Oh, yes, miss. We’re the quality of the hull place. There’s nobody like the Danas.”