"No; and that is what makes her so queer. She has never been the same since."
"My! how warm it is getting," said Florence. "I am glad we have broad brimmed hats. Let's hurry home. There is your Mrs. Brown again."
"Oh, dear!" said Dimple. "Let us turn up this street; it is just as near to go home this way." So they turned the corner and reached home before Mrs. Brown knew which way they had gone.
"Suppose we watch Sylvy make cake," said Dimple, when they had delivered their packages. "She always lets me watch her. And then we can scrape the bowl. Don't you like to?"
"I never do at home," said Florence. "Our cook is so cross and mamma does not like me to go into the kitchen."
"My mamma doesn't care; she lets me go whenever I please, and sometimes I help Bubbles clean knives and do such things, so she can get through, and play with me sooner."
"Sylvy, we are coming to watch you make cake; may we?"
"I'm not a carin'!" said Sylvy. "Git 'round on the other side of the table."
"See her break the eggs," said Florence. "Could you do it, Dimple? I'd be sure to get the yolks all mixed with the whites, and she just turns one half into the other as easily."
"I'd be afraid to try," said Dimple; "but when I am a little bigger, I mean to make a cake myself. I believe I could now if I had some one to tell me."