“Oh, Margaret, you know we won’t care,” said Edna earnestly.
“I knew you wouldn’t, but I didn’t know about them all. I shall have to ask, you see, because it seems to me that of all the people I know, the Friendlessers are the very ones who ought to come when it is to celebrate my coming away from there, and then, too they don’t have good times like we do.”
The girls all called the Home of the Friendless “The Friendless” and the children there, “The Friendlessers” so they knew quite well whom Margaret meant.
“How soon is the party to be?” asked Jennie.
“Next Saturday afternoon. The Friendlessers can come then better than any other time, and besides we live out of town, and it will be easier for everyone to come in the afternoon.”
“I shall come,” said Dorothy decidedly, “and I think it is a beautiful idea for you to have the Friendlessers.”
“And of course I shall come,” put in Jennie.
“I know my sister will,” said Edna.
“And mine,” echoed Dorothy.
“There is one thing I hope you won’t mind my saying,” said Margaret; “mother says please not to wear party frocks, and not to dress up much, on account of the Friendlessers, you know, for of course they won’t have any.”