“There!” he said, as half proudly he drew it out again. “Now we’re even!”
“Yes; but how can we go into Mrs. Hampton’s this way?”
“Perhaps they won’t notice. Mine doesn’t feel very wet, does yours?”
“Sopping! and they’ll drip all over her carpet.”
“Let’s wipe them on the grass.”
But the green grass did not improve the appearance of Dolly’s white shoe, though Dick’s black one didn’t show the effects of the bath so plainly.
“Come on, Dolly, we may as well face the music.”
They went on toward the house, and the dust of the footpath settled on Dick’s wet shoe and stocking until he was quite as untidy looking as his sister.
“Wow! isn’t it soppy!” he exclaimed as the water in his shoe oozed and spattered out.
“Horrid! I don’t see why we did it!”