“Blue Bonnet, how could you!” Sarah exclaimed, the moment the bell rang for morning recess.
“Blue Bonnet, you duck!” Kitty added. “For once a geography lesson was interesting,—only, I’d like to see one of the rest of us dare to answer like that!”
“But it was so,” Blue Bonnet insisted. “Sarah, do you suppose it’s on its way by now?”
“It’s going on the noon train,” Sarah answered.
Grandmother and Aunt Lucinda would not be back until early afternoon, so Blue Bonnet had coaxed Katy, the cook, into putting up some lunch for her to take to school. Kitty and Debby had brought theirs, and the three had a delightful time together in one corner of the almost empty classroom.
Going home from school that afternoon, with every step bringing her nearer to her grandmother and her aunt, Blue Bonnet’s growing doubts as to how the news of her contribution to the sewing society’s box would be received grew very rapidly indeed. She went up the path to the house at a much slower pace than usual, answering Solomon’s rush of welcome rather soberly. If only Aunt Lucinda would be out—Grandmother was so much more—reasonable. But no, there they both sat, each at her accustomed window. Blue Bonnet began to think that missionary boxes like a good many other things—had their objectionable side.
“And how did you and Sarah manage last night?” Miss Clyde asked, as Blue Bonnet sat down on the end of the lounge nearest Grandmother.
Blue Bonnet’s greeting had been rather subdued. There was the suspicion of a smile about the corners of Mrs. Clyde’s mouth—Sarah had been chosen for the express purpose of keeping Blue Bonnet out of mischief; but—unless all signs failed—
“We got on nicely,” Blue Bonnet answered slowly. “Grandmother, I gave my red dress to the missionary box.”
“Elizabeth!” Miss Clyde exclaimed.