So Dora put on her hat and went over to the next house.  She went in at the front door, and passed through the long entry, at the other end of which the door into the garden stood open.  Going out of this door she found herself in full view of the whole family.  Directly in front of her, under the apple-tree, sat Mr. and Mrs. Birkenfeld, and round about them were the six children.  Her timidity came back again, at seeing the parents, for she had expected to see only the children.  She stood hesitating, and glanced shyly at the company.  Little Hunne caught sight of her, and slipping down from his seat, ran toward her with outstretched arms, crying out,

“Come, Dora, there is room here on my seat; Come!” and seizing her hand, he pulled her along toward the others, who all came eagerly to meet her, and welcomed her as cordially as if she were an old friend.  So, occupied with questions and greetings, she came to where the parents sat, and they were so friendly and kind, that all her shyness passed away, and she was soon sitting on the same seat with Hunne, in the midst of the circle, as much at home as if she belonged there.

Mr. and Mrs. Birkenfeld soon left their seats and walked up and down the garden; and then the children pressed round Dora, and each had some particular thing to say to her.  Paula spoke least; but she looked at the new acquaintance, as if she were making a study of her.  Rolf, Wili and Lili stood as near Dora as they could squeeze, to make her hear what they were saying, and Hunne kept fast hold of her, as if afraid that she would vanish away.

“If you squeeze Dora to death the first time she makes us a visit, she will not come a second time;” remarked Julius, who sat stretched out at full length on a garden-bench; “so take my advice, and give her room to breathe.”

“How old are you, Dora?  Not much older than I am?” asked Lili eagerly.

“I am just twelve.”

“Oh, what a shame! then you are as old as Paula;” said Lili regretfully, who had hoped that Dora would belong to her in every respect, even in age.

“No, no,” cried Rolf, “Dora is my age; at least nearer mine than Paula’s, if she is only just twelve.”

Rolf thought this opened a favorable prospect for special companionship.  “Are you good at guessing riddles?  And are you fond of them?”

“Yes, yes, and I have made a riddle;” cried Hunne, putting in his oar, “Now guess mine, Dora.  My first you can eat but not drink”—­

Rolf cut the little boy’s charade ruthlessly in two with,

“Oh, get away with your old riddle, Hunne; it is no riddle at all!  Now listen, Dora;

“My first conceals from light of day—­” But Rolf was not destined to finish his verses, for Lili had seized Dora’s hand and was pulling her with all her might, saying,

“Come, Dora, I will play you everything I know.”  Dora had asked her if she was the one who played on the piano, and Lili thought this a good excuse for stealing the new friend for herself.  Lili had her way, for Dora really wanted to hear the piano, though she did not like to disappoint Rolf.