“What is the plot of your play?” asked Aunt Molly.
The girls looked at each other blankly.
“Why, it hasn’t any plot,” said Nan. “Do plays always have to have plots? You see, we’ve just written songs for each of us in the characters we’ve assumed down here.”
“Then I don’t exactly see how Uncle Ned could be brought in,” said Aunt Molly, smiling.
“He can’t be brought in; he’ll just have to come in,” said Betty.
“Like a burglar,” said Nan; “we’ve expected one ever since we’ve been here, and we may as well have our expectations realized.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” said Hester. “The play, of course, will represent all us girls here in this cottage; and Uncle Ned might appear as a burglar—a nice, kind one, you know, like ‘Editha’s Burglar.’ ”
“Yes, and he can be real affable and social, and sing solos as he prowls about for his plunder.”
“That seems more like a plot. Let’s do it,” said Nan.
Out came the paper-pad and pencils, and genius was set to burning, all of which resulted in several songs for Uncle Ned, whose consent to the plan was fully guaranteed by Aunt Molly.