"All right, Marian, I will," she smiled, giving a lazy stretch of her arms above her head. The family had risen early that morning, for the General Meigs left at eight o'clock. "I have to do some telephoning for Mother first, but that won't take very long."
"Lucy! Are you here?" called a voice from the piazza, and Julia Houston poked her head through a window. "Oh, hello, I'll climb in," she added, getting over the sill with her usual swiftness of action.
"I was just wishing you'd come, Julia," said Lucy, rushing to meet her friend. "Oh! Isn't he sweet! Where did you get him?" For Julia was clutching with both arms a fat, yellow Newfoundland puppy that wanted awfully to get on its own feet.
"Somebody gave Father two of them," explained Julia, dropping her wriggling burden on to the floor with a sigh of relief. "And Father says we may keep only one, and for me to give the other away, so I thought I'd let you have first chance. I know you need cheering up to-day, and they are the cunningest, funniest little ducks. I have been playing with them ever since I woke up."
"I'd simply love to have him," exclaimed Lucy, shouting to be heard over William's sudden squeals of delight as he came running in and saw the puppy.
"Oh, let's have him, let's keep him,—mayn't we, Lucy?" he begged from the floor, where he and the puppy were already a tangle of legs and paws, as the puppy delightedly recognized something near his own size to play with.
"I don't know until we ask Father," said Lucy, smiling. "But I guess he won't mind."
"They're just alike. We'll have to label them to tell them apart," said Julia. "Father wanted to name them something German, because they're so yellow, but I certainly won't. I've named ours MacDougal after the Canadian officer who gave them to us, and I'll call him Mac."
"Well, we shall simply have to keep this one. He's too sweet," said Lucy, trying to push her fingers into the puppy's thick furry coat while he rolled over in every direction.