"So it is, Honey, but I think we can find a way. Was it some pretty frocks you wanted to give them?"
"Oh, if I only could, Uncle Cliff. Gowns and slippers to match, and I'd thought of some pretty evening wraps, too. You see, we're going to the theatre, and supper afterward, and the Lambs have such pretty ones. We could afford it, couldn't we? There's no one to spend money on but poor little me."
Mr. Ashe laughed as he smoothed out a pucker in his niece's brow.
"I don't think you need worry about the expense," he said. "You are very fortunate in that respect, Blue Bonnet, and you know I always approve of spending money where it means happiness. Do you need a new frock, too,—and Carita, perhaps?"
"We could each use one," Blue Bonnet answered, "though I suppose Aunt Lucinda wouldn't exactly think I needed it."
"This isn't Aunt Lucinda's affair," Mr. Ashe replied quickly. "It's mine, Honey. How would this do? We'll take the We Are Sevens shopping with us to-morrow morning and when you and Carita have selected your gowns I will suggest that the others select too—a little gift from me—or from you, if you think best."
Blue Bonnet clapped her hands with delight.
"The very thing," she cried. "Then they can't think it was planned. They'll be so delighted. Oh, Uncle Cliff, you are so dear, so dear!" The last dear was emphasized with a resounding kiss. "I'm so happy; so happy that it seems as if I couldn't stand it. Isn't this a beautiful old world? Now, we must hurry. I want to get you out to the hospital to see Gabriel the very first thing."
Blue Bonnet had explained at breakfast all about Gabriel, and Uncle Cliff had said little. But he was ready for further investigation.
"I'm not sure that I like the idea of you going about these hospitals, Honey—especially where patients are tubercular. You can contract these things, you know."