of them and they all taste alike. Bubbles, go down and ask mamma if we mayn't have a little teensy-weensy bit more honey, we are both so hungry."
Bubbles took the little glass dish, and went off.
"I wish I had a Bubbles," said Florence. "We have a black man, but I think a little girl is ever so much nicer; then there is nurse, she takes us to walk; and then there is Kate, the cook, and Lena, the chambermaid, they are always fussing and quarreling. I get tired of so many."
"We only have Sylvy and Bubbles," said Dimple. "Sylvy is black too; she is real nice but she will get mad with Bubbles sometimes. Bubbles cleans knives, and runs errands, sets the table, wipes the dishes, and is a lot of help. You don't know how much she can do, and she learns something new every little while. Have some more honey, Florence, for that piece of bread. I never can come out even; sometimes I have to take more bread for the honey, and then more honey for the bread, till I do eat so much. Have you finished? I believe I have too."
"It is so nice here," said Florence, as they settled themselves after their tea, "just delicious. It is so much pleasanter to see green grass, and trees, and flowers, than brick walls, and pavements. Do you play out of doors much?"
"Yes, all day, nearly; but I haven't since my foot was hurt. I couldn't run about, and I should have to wait for some one to bring me in; then I always want to be close to mamma when anything is the matter with me. Are you that way?"
"Yes," said Florence. "Aren't mammas the best thing in the world? I hope mine doesn't miss me."
"Now, Florence, don't get homesick, for I shall be distressed if you do. Let's talk about the dolls. Here comes mamma. We will ask her what we can dress them in.
"Mamma, mamma, did you see our beauty dolls? Won't you get out your reserve bag to-morrow? I have looked over my piece box so much, and it would be perfectly splendid to have something I had never seen before."
"What is a reserve bag?" asked Florence.
"Why, you see," said Dimple, "mamma has a lot of bags, one for silk pieces, and one for white pieces, and one for pieces like our frocks, and so on, but the nicest is the one she keeps for occasions, like Christmas and birthdays and fairs, and there are the prettiest bits of velvet and silk in it. Mamma, bring out your reserve bag, that is a lovely blue-eyed mamma," said Dimple, coaxingly.
"You are very complimentary," said her mamma, laughing. "If you won't tease or worry me, to-morrow I will bring it out and you can each choose what you want."
"Oh! mamma, you are lovelier and more blue-eyed than ever," said Dimple, "let us both kiss you. We will be good as gold, won't we, Florence?"
"Yes, indeed," said she. "Auntie, you are lovely."
"I think if you don't go to bed," said Mrs. Dallas, "you will keep me awake all night with your flattery."
"Florence is to sleep with me, isn't she, mamma?"
"Certainly, and the sooner you go, the sooner it will be to-morrow."
"Well, we will go now. See me ride, Florence," said Dimple, as her mamma put her in a rocking-chair and pushed the chair along through the door into Dimple's little blue and white room.
It was a dear little room, and Dimple, with the help of Bubbles, took care of it all herself.
There was a white curtained window around which roses and honeysuckle grew, and threw their tendrils about in a such a reckless way, that one or two had made up their minds to live in the room instead of outdoors, and were climbing around the window sash.
A little brass bedstead, a mantel with a blue and white lambrequin, a blue and white toilet set, pretty pictures on the wall, and a small bookshelf, made a very cozy looking nest for a little girl, and so Florence thought, who had no room of her own, but slept with an older sister.
They were both tired, and even the delightful topic of dolls could not keep them awake very long, for a half hour later when the moon looked in on her way across the sky, she saw them both sound asleep, an auburn head on Florence's pillow, and a yellow one on Dimple's.
CHAPTER II
Dolls
Florence and Dimple were on the back porch where it was always cool in the morning.
Bubbles was cleaning knives on the steps, the temptation to watch the dressing of the dolls being too great to keep her in the kitchen.
"I declare," said Dimple, "we haven't named them yet."
"That is so," returned Florence.
"You take first choice,
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