Blossom was up on her elbow, pleading earnestly. Judith was dressing.
“It’s a Blossom day—you know it’s a Blossom day! And Jemmy Three’ll carry me down. I know Jemmy Three will! I haven’t been out a-dorying for such a long time; Judy—please!”
It was always hard work for Judith to refuse Blossom anything. Besides—Judith went to the window and lifted the scant little curtain—yes, it certainly was a “Blossom day.” The sky was Blossom-blue, the sea spread away out of sight, Blossom-smooth and shining. And the little pleader there in the bed looked so eager and longing—so Blossom-sweet! She should go “a-dorying,” decided Judith, but it would not be Jemmy Three that carried her down to the sea.
“You little tease, come on, then!” laughed Judith. “I’ll dress you in double-quick, for I’ve got to get out to my traps.”
Judith had overslept, for a wonder. When had Judith done a thing like that before! For two hours Blossom had been awake, lying very quietly for fear of waking Judy; poor, tired Judy must not be disturbed. Downstairs mother had gone away to her work at the beautiful summer cottage down-beach, beyond the hotel. It was ironing-day at the cottage, and all day mother would stand at the ironing-board, ironing dainty summer skirts and gowns.
“I’ll ride in front an’ be a—a what’ll I be, Judy?”
“A little bother of a Blossom in a pink dress,” laughed Judith, as she buttoned the small garments with the swift, deft fingers that had buttoned them for six years.
“No, no! a—don’t you know, the kind of a thing that brings good luck? You read it to me your own self, Judy Lynn!”
“I guess you mean a mastif,” Judith said slowly. “Queer it sounds so much like a dog!—it didn’t make me think of a dog when I read it.”
“M-m—yes, I’ll be a mastif”—Blossom’s voice was doubtful; it hadn’t reminded her so much of a dog, either, at the time. “An’ so you’ll have good luck. You’ll find your traps brim-up full, Judy! Then I guess you’ll say, ‘Oh, how thankful I am I brought that child!’”