“She must have goggles,” cried Mitchell. “She must have goggles and be all fixed up, and when you have got her the goggles and she has been all fixed up, I ask, as a last boon, that I may go along, just so as to see everyone who sees her.”
“We’ll all go,” Clover explained. “I’ll ‘chuff’ her myself and then there’ll be room for everyone.”
“To the auto and to to-morrow!” cried Burnett, hastily pouring out a fresh toast, which even Aunt Mary applauded, not at all knowing what she was applauding.
“And now for the next day,” said Jack. “I think I’ll give her a box-party. Don’t you want to go to the theater in a box, Aunt Mary?”
“Go where in a box?” said Aunt Mary, starting a little. “I didn’t quite catch that.”
“To the theater,” Jack yelled.
“To the theater,” repeated his aunt a trifle blankly, “I—”
“And the next day,” said Mitchell suddenly (he had been reflecting maturely), “I’ll take you all up the sound in my yacht.”
“Oh, hurrah,” cried Burnett, “that’ll be bully! And the day after I’ll give her a picnic.”
“Time of your life, Aunt Mary,” Jack shrieked in her ear-trumpet; “time of your life!”