Blue Bonnet lingered, she wished Aunt Lucinda wouldn’t look so—so annoyed. “Is slang very dreadful, Aunt Lucinda?” she asked. “All the girls use it.”
“Are you offering that as a reason, Elizabeth?”
“I reckon I was,” Blue Bonnet answered.
“It hardly seems a sufficient one to me.”
“But it’s like taking a short cut—one doesn’t always want to go ’round. Alec says that lots of to-day’s slang will be recognized English by and by.”
“I certainly hope Alec may prove a false prophet in this case.”
Blue Bonnet went for her books; there were times when Aunt Lucinda was exceedingly—difficult.
“Blue Bonnet,” her grandmother said, when just before bedtime Blue Bonnet came for their promised talk, “don’t you want to share your good fortune with someone who really needs it? None of you ‘We are Seven’s’ will lack for Thanksgiving cheer.”
“Oh, I would love that! I never once thought of doing that. Grandmother, sometimes I can’t help being glad that some day I’ll be—well, not exactly poor. It’s such fun giving things to people.”
“Better than fun, Blue Bonnet. And the best thing about it is that you needn’t wait until you are grown-up, and ‘not exactly poor.’ Only, dear, you must learn to give time and thought as well as money—