"No, I didn't. I stopped on the way to put them somewhere."
"Have you looked in the living-room?"
"No."
"Then probably that is where they are. Come, let's go down and see if they are there." She led the way to the living-room and there, sure enough, the gloves and handkerchief were found hidden under a book on the table.
"What a place to put them," exclaimed Nan. "That's just like you, Jack. Come along, now. Put your hat on straight; it's over your left ear. The others are all ready. No, don't dive under the sofa for the cat; you'll get all in a mess. Here, you've dropped one of your gloves. Put them both on; it's the only safe way. Of course you'll lose them both before the journey is over, but you may as well start out all right. There are crumbs sticking to your mouth; wipe them off. Coming, mother," and pushing Jack ahead of her she gave one swift glance around the room and joined the group standing on the porch.
The carriage was already waiting at the door. Mary Lee and Jean were seated complacently therein. It was a big, roomy old hack such as the livery stable of the town afforded for the use of the traveling public, and there was space enough for the six of them to be comfortably seated without crowding. Mary Lee leaned back sedately, but Jack and Nan stretched their necks out of the window till the corner was turned, despite the criticism which this performance brought from Mary Lee.
"You look like country jakes," she declared, "as if you had never traveled before. Do take in your heads; people will laugh at you."
"I don't care if they do," responded Nan. "It won't be the first time we have been laughed at, will it, Jack?"
"And it won't be the last, if you are going to keep up this sort of doings," returned Mary Lee with a superior air.
"Oh, don't let's fuss just as we are starting out," put in Jean plaintively; "it takes away all the good taste."