AUNT DORA
"I feel just like running away," said Dora, "and staying until Auntie
goes."
"Don't do it," begged Dorothy, "for I shall have to go, too."
"Poor papa!" they both exclaimed again.
"No. We shall have to stay and brace papa up," admitted Dora.
"We've just _got_ to," groaned her twin.
"And if she begins to nag him again about giving one of us up----"
"We won't leave him," declared Dorothy, very firmly.
"_I_ wouldn't live at her house for a fortune!" repeated Dorothy.
"Come on! let's see how the land lies," suggested Dora. "Perhaps the
worst of it's over."
"No such luck," groaned Dorothy. "There's Betsey."
They ran up the winding path to the kitchen porch. The gentle,
pink-faced old lady who met them at the door, had a worried brow.
"Hush, girls! you're aunt is here," she whispered.
"We know it. We saw the windows of the best room wide open. Is she
making Mary clean the room all over again?"
"Yes," sighed Mrs. Betsey. "Your aunt declared it smelled musty from
being shut up. She has _such_ a nose," and the little old lady shook her
head.
"Interfering old thing!" snapped Dora.
"Hush! you must not speak so," admonished Mrs. Betsey.
"Well, she _is_," declared Dorothy, of course agreeing with her twin.
"Where is she?" queried Dora.
"With your father in the hot-house."
"Come on, then," said Dora to her sister. "Let's get it over right
away."
They heard voices in the conservatory, for the sashes were open on this
warm day. There was the stern, uncompromising tone of Aunt Dora, and the
gentle, worried voice of Mr. Lockwood. The twins never liked to hear
their father's voice when he was worried, and they saw to it--with Mrs.
Betsey--that it did not occur frequently. But there was no help for it
when Aunt Dora was about!
First of all, the twins heard their aunt say:
"You're no more fit to bring up girls, Lemuel, than I am to steer one of
these dratted airships the papers are full of!"
"No. You are right," said Mr. Lockwood. "The comparison is just. You
would _not_ do well in an airship, Dora."
"Huh! I should think not! And you're as little fit to bring up two
girls--and twins, at that!"
"But--but I don't really bring them up," said Mr. Lockwood,
apologetically. "Mrs. Betsey does that."
"Mrs. Betsey!" with a sniff.
"And really, they get along very well, Sister."
"They get along well because they are no trouble to you."
"Well, isn't that as it should be? They are good girls--and loving
girls."
"I declare to man! Lemuel Lockwood, you haven't any more idea of what
those girls need than a babe unborn."
"What _do_ they need, Dora?" asked worried Mr. Lockwood.
"They need a strong hand--a stern and uncompromising spirit to govern
them--that's what they need!" declared the militant aunt.
"But Dora, they are good girls and make me no trouble at all."
"Of course they make you no trouble. You let them do exactly as they
wish."
"No, no!" urged Mr. Lockwood, hastily. "They don't always do as they
wish. Sometimes we haven't the money to let them do _with_. I've heard
Mrs. Betsey say so. And--and--why, there is one of them who likes three
lumps of sugar in her coffee; but I always reprove her for it. That is
extravagance."
"Huh!" sniffed Aunt Dora.
"Otherwise they are no trouble to me at all," said Mr. Lockwood,
briskly. "They are not, I assure you. We live a very quiet and peaceful
life here."
"Yah!" exclaimed his sister. "That is all you want--peace."
"I admit it--I admit it," returned her brother. "I am naturally retiring
and of a peaceful disposition, Dora."
"You're a natural born fool, Lemuel!" declared his sister, so sharply
that the twins, who were inadvertently listening at the door, hesitating
to go in, fairly jumped. "I want to tell you right now that you are a
disgrace to manhood! You've never amounted to a row of beans since you
were out of pinafores. If your little property wasn't tied up hard and
fast so that you could only use the income of it, you would have
frittered it all away long ago, and left these children penniless.
You've never made a dollar in your life, Lemuel Lockwood!"
"But--but there has never been any real necessity for me to make money,"
stammered the horticulturist. "And one of these days we are going to
have a plenty. I've got a melon started here on the bench, Dora----"
"You needn't show me any of your nasty plants. They're all ridiculous.
And it isn't plants we're talking about. It's girls. Mercy knows how an
inscrutable Providence ever came to allow two helpless girl babies to
fall into your hands, Lemuel. But they're here and you've the burden of
them. One would be more than you could manage properly; but two is
ridiculous. I'd undertake, as I have told you before, to bring my
namesake up as a girl _should_ be brought up--and that will leave more
money for you to fritter away on your hot-beds and cold-frames, and the
like," she added, slily.
"Dora!" exclaimed Mr. Lockwood, with a quaver in his voice, "do you
really think I am not doing my duty by Dora and Dorothy?"
"Think it?" sniffed his sister. "I know it! And everybody else with
sense knows it. How can a mere man bring up twin girls and give them a
proper start in life?"
"But Mrs. Betsey does her very best----"
"And what does _she_ know?" demanded his sister. "Does she ever read
papers upon the proper management of girls? Or magazine articles upon
what a young girl should be taught by her parents? Or books upon the
growth and development of the girlish mind?"
"No--o," admitted Mr. Lockwood. "I am very sure Mrs. Betsey never has
time for such reading."
"Then what does she know about it?" demanded Aunt Dora, triumphantly.
"But they are hardly ever sick--and how pretty they both are!" sighed
the father of the twins.
"Bah! never sick! pretty!" ejaculated Aunt Dora, staccato. "What about
their souls, Lemuel Lockwood? What about the development of their minds?
Have you done aught to make them stern and uncompromising when they meet
the world on an equal footing--as all women shall in the time to come?
Are you preparing them for their work in life? Are they prepared to take
the helm of affairs and show Man how Woman can guide affairs of moment?"
"I--I hope not!" murmured Mr. Lockwood, aghast. "They are just girls
going to school, and studying, and having fun, and loving each other.
No, Dora, the stern duties of life have not troubled them as yet, thank
God!"
"But they should be beginning to realize them, Lemuel," declared his
sister. "Life is not fun. There is no time to dawdle around with plays,
and athletics, and such foolishness. Where are they this minute, Lemuel
Lockwood?"
"Why--why, they went out on the lake."
"In what?"
"A canoe, I understand."
"And what's a canoe?" gasped Aunt Dora. "Is _that_ a proper thing for
young girls to ride in? Why! it's a savage boat--an Indian boat. A
canoe, indeed!"
"But I scarcely can think there is any harm in their paddling a canoe.
Many of their schoolmates do so, and their physical instructor, Mrs.
Case, approves."
"It is no business for my namesake to be in," declared Aunt Dora. "You
named her after me, Lemuel, and I feel that I have some right to her.
She having no mother, and I being her godmother, she is more mine than
anybody else's. And I am determined to take her home with me."
"Take Dora?" gasped Mr. Lockwood. "Whatever should we do without her?"
"Hah!" exclaimed his sister. "You have the other one."
"But--but it doesn't seem as though one would be complete without the
other," said Mr. Lockwood, thoughtfully. "They have always been
together. Why, nobody knows them apart----"
"And that's another foolish thing!" exclaimed Aunt Dora. "To allow two
girls to reach their age and have nobody able to distinguish between
them. Dressing them just alike, and all! It is ridiculous."
"But they have always wished to be just alike, Sister," said the father
of the twins.
"_They_ wished!" exclaimed Aunt Dora. "Is it _their_ place to have their
way in such affairs? That is exactly what I say, Lemuel--you're not fit
to manage the girls. And I am determined to save one of them from the
results of your mismanagement. I have always noticed," added Aunt Dora,
a little less confidently, "that Dora is much more amenable in
disposition than Dorothy. Naturally, being named after me, she may have
taken on more reasonable and practical characteristics than her sister."
Mr. Lockwood was a thin little man, with wisps of gray hair over his
ears, a bald crown, on which he always wore a skullcap, and meek side
whiskers. But now he stood and stared in perfect amazement at his
sister, demanding:
"Do you mean to tell me you have noticed such characteristics in Dora?"
"Certainly," said his sister, complacently.
"Then you know them apart?"
"Well--er--when I have the opportunity of comparing their manner and
speech----"
"Here they are!" exclaimed the harassed father, suddenly spying the
girls behind his sister. "If you can tell which is which, you are
welcome to. I leave it to the girls themselves. If Dora wishes to go
with you, she may. I--I wash my hands of the affair!"