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, then," said Dimple. "I shall have to think, for
I've had a Rose and a Violet and a Lily, besides one named Victoria, and
one Aurelia."
Florence sat still watching Bubbles briskly scouring her knives. "Dear
me," she said, presently, "it's awfully hard. How do you suppose our
mothers found names for us?"
"Oh! that was easy enough," answered Dimple. "I was named Eleanor after
your mamma, and you were named Florence after mine; but, you see we are
not sisters, so we can't do that. I'll tell you what let's do; you tell
mamma the names you like best, and I will tell her those I like; then
she can write them down and put them in a hat, and we will draw lots for
them.
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