"
"But, Preston, how could I look like that? My dresses are not
made so."
"I hope not!" said Preston, laughing. "But, Daisy, we'll get
some of aunt Felicia's riggings and feathers, and set you out
in style."
"But you can't put feathers on my head like those," said
Daisy. "They wouldn't stay on. And I don't see why Fortitude
should be dressed in feathers."
"Why, it is the crest of her helmet, Daisy! Fortitude must
have something strong about her, somewhere, and I suppose her
head is as good a place as any. We'll make a helmet for you.
And I will make Dolce lie down at your feet for the lion."
"You couldn't, Preston."
"I could make him do anything." Dolce was Preston's dog; a
great shaggy St. Bernard.
"Well! —" said Daisy, with a half-sigh.
"I think you'll make a beautiful Fortitude. Now let us see
what next. That is for one."
"How many pictures do you want?" said Daisy.
"Oh, a good many. Plenty, or it wouldn't be worth taking all
the trouble, and shutting the people up in a dark room.
'Alfred in the neat-herd's cottage' — getting a scolding for
his burnt cakes. How splendid that would be if we could get
Dr. Sandford to be Alfred!"
"Who would be that scolding old woman?"
"No matter, because we can't get Dr.
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