ust
alike--and she hated two of her things to be alike. So Dot would take
one off her hands, wouldn't she?

Only each time she said "Thea," or "Thea darling!" And she bought her a
silver "wish" bangle as a keepsake, and a little scent bottle and fan
for "remembrance."

Before they went home they went into an arcade shop and had strawberries
and cream, and a big ice cream and sponge cake each. And they met
several straw-hatted youths to whom Alma bowed.

She told Dot to count how many hats were taken off to her, and Dot
counted, and behold, the number was ten.

Dot herself felt rather envious. She only knew one grammar-school boy,
who smiled from ear to ear and blushed with delight on seeing her.

Then they went home.

When they opened the dining-room door the table was set for luncheon,
and a bald-headed gentleman was waiting at the head of it, a book
propped up before him.

When the girls came in he went on reading just as before, deaf to their
chatter, blind to the pretty blue of their dresses.

Alma ran down the room to him, and kissed the top of his head.

"Home again, father!" she said.

And then he looked up smiling, and stroked her little sallow face with
one finger.

"This is my _very_ dearest friend--Dorothea Bruce!" said Alma
delightedly, and drawing Dot forward.

The great doctor, who was small in stature, stood up then and took
little Dot's hand in his, and a very kindly smile came to his eyes as he
looked into her lovely childish face.

"I'm very glad to see my daughter's dearest friend," he said, and he
patted her soft pink cheeks also.

The door opened again just as this introduction was over, and a new
nervousness attacked Alma. Another tinge of yellowness crept into her
skin, her eyes grew wistful, and she began to stammer.

"My f-friend, mother--Thea--Dorothea Bruce," and Dot turned curiously
and shyly round to the door. Entering there was a very beautiful woman
in a tea gown. Her eyes were like Alma's, only far lovelier, her
complexion was only a few years less fresh and perfect than Dorothea's
own--and her hair was red-gold and beautiful.

When her glance rested on Dorothea's face, a look of pleasure crept
into them--just pleasure at seeing any one so flower-like and sweet as
this little maid from school.

"I am very pleased to see you, dear," she said graciously, and she
stooped forward and kissed the girl's cheek.

Then she looked at Alma--poor undersized Alma, with her yell