"There's one comfort about all this," said Kitty, "our skirts and middies have had a much-needed bath."
"I'm afraid they won't be very clean,—cold water won't take grease out," said Sarah mournfully. "And I'd like to know—how are we going to iron them?"
They were all sitting in a circle about a blazing bonfire of Uncle Joe's building, with their streaming hair spread out to dry. Dressing-gowns and bedroom slippers had made it unnecessary to go to bed while their wardrobe hung on the line, and now that they were warm and comfortable, they were disposed to look on the adventure of the afternoon as more of a lark than a misfortune.
"Do you recall a prophecy you made this morning, Blue Bonnet?" asked Kitty.
Blue Bonnet shook her head.
"Your 'prophetic soul' told you, if I remember rightly, that we were going to conduct ourselves like a model Sunday-school class to-day."
"Well, if anybody would promise me as much fun in Sunday-school as I've had this day, I'd never be absent or tardy!" laughed Blue Bonnet.
Sarah looked pained. "It's Sunday to-morrow," she remarked. "I wonder what Dr. Judson will take as the text of his sermon."
Blue Bonnet gave her a long, curious glance. "Do you really wonder, Sarah, about things like that?"
Sarah raised honest, serious eyes. "Why, of course, Blue Bonnet. Don't you?"