“Think of it!” Blue Bonnet exclaimed. “The mare’s my very own! I’m going to name her Chula! I thought of it in—church!”
“What else have you been thinking about—in church?” Kitty demanded.
“Oh, any amount of things—Christmas things! Wasn’t it dear of Uncle Cliff?”
“You shouldn’t have him all the time for an uncle,” Debby protested. “It isn’t a fair division.”
The sitting-room at the parsonage told plainly what day of the year it was. Five small Blakes, ranging from twelve to three, swooped joyously down upon the newcomers.
“What did you get?” resounded on every side, broken by excited exclamations of admiration and sympathy.
“I am glad Aunt Lucinda thought of my skates!” Blue Bonnet rejoiced. “We’ll go every afternoon, won’t we?—while the ice holds.”
“I’ll have to go now—not skating,” Debby said, and at that the party broke up.
There was to be only a home dinner that day, at the usual time, in order to give Delia and Katie their Christmas holiday; so Blue Bonnet was waiting when the boys came for her.
Boyd Trent, though several months younger than his cousin, was taller and stronger looking in every way than Alec. Blue Bonnet wondered, as the three went down the path and out at the back gate, why she felt so sure that she should never really like him.