ite a nice little party. You can use your own dishes, and have all the
fun you choose."

"Won't that be fine!" cried Dimple, softly clapping her hands. "Shall we
go now?" she asked.

"Yes, unless you would rather wait."

"No, I'd rather go now, so I won't have to think about it, for I shall
not want to leave my house to-day; it is so dear and cunning. And,
Florence, when we come back, we'll gather some flowers and make
everything look as pretty as possible. Just think, we'll be like
grown-up ladies, with a house, and a servant, and--oh, mamma, please let
Bubbles wear a cap."

Mrs. Dallas laughed. "I don't believe we will insist upon that, but you
can rig up one for her if you like, when she is out here. Now I must go
in."

"Come, Florence, we'll go and invite the company, and get that over
with, and then we'll have nothing to interrupt us the rest of the day,"
said Dimple. "Won't it be fine to come out here on rainy days and make
all the noise we want. What time shall we tell the children to come?"
she called after her mother, who was just stepping off the little porch.

"At four o'clock, I think."

"That's the time Rock had his tea-party," said Dimple. "I am glad we can
invite him to our feast, because we had such a nice time over there. I
wonder if he knows anything about this being our little house. If he
doesn't, won't he be surprised!"

It proved that Rock didn't know, and he was as interested as any one
could wish;--so much so, indeed, that he begged to go over at once to
see it, and his mother allowed him to do so.

"My! but it's fine," he declared, examining both outside and in. "You
might have a pretty little garden out here, and plant some vines to grow
over the porch."

"So we might," Dimple responded, "I never thought of that. It will make
the little porch so much prettier. Just think, I never dreamed that it
was being built for me."

"Your father is awfully good," returned Rock, adding soberly, "I hope it
runs in the family."

Dimple laughed, but looked sober herself, immediately after. "I'm afraid
I'll never be as good as papa and mamma, for I do horrid things," she
said. She looked at Florence wistfully, then lifted one of her cousin's
soft auburn curls, and laid her cheek against it; to which Florence
responded by giving her a sudden kiss. They both remembered that day in
the garret.

Rock became so interested in the idea of a garden, that, after Mrs.
Dallas's consent was gained, he spe