But
when the door of the little house was opened her surprise was so great
that she gave expression to one long-drawn "Oh-h!" and looked from one
to the other half bewildered.
For, instead of a brooder and an "inkybator," she saw before her the
dearest little room with white curtains at the window, a rug upon the
floor, a small cooking stove in one corner, a table, chairs, and all to
suit a little girl. Upon the shelves were ranged plates, cups, saucers
and dishes, and a cupboard in the corner looked as if it might hold
other necessary things for housekeeping. Moreover, her family of dolls
sat along in a row on the window-seat, looking as expectant as is the
nature of dolls to look.
"Well, Dot, how do you like it?" asked Mr. Dallas, smiling down at the
child whose color came and went in her fair little face.
"Oh, papa! Oh, papa! is it truly my house?" she asked, clasping him
closely.
"Yes, it is truly yours. I thought a rainy day house might help to keep
our little chicks out of mischief, because here they can peep as loud as
they choose and it will not disturb any one."
"You said it was for little chicks, and I never once thought you meant
us. Did you, Florence? It is lovely, lovely. Oh, papa, you are too
good."
"I think it is a matter of self-defence, for if you and Florence are so
ambitious as to take violent possession of your neighbors' houses, it
seemed to me there would be no end of complaints, and the best way to
prevent further housebreaking was to give you a house where you could
cook and sweep and exercise your domestic tastes to your hearts'
content.
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