When Miss Larkin took this tone, she was particularly aggravating, and it was Kitty who threw herself into the breach, and saved the day by her ready wit.
“Larky, dear,” she began, and Miss Larkin smiled gaily at the nickname, “we truly weren’t up to any mischief, but we beg you as a special favor not to ask us what we were doing—because—well, because it’s a sort of a secret.”
“A secret, bless your hearts! Then, of course, I don’t want to know. All children love secrets. Keep yours, my dearies; I didn’t mean to be curious, I assure you.”
Now here was a nice spirit, indeed! Such a Larky was well worth making a celebration for, and the children’s spirits rose accordingly.
After luncheon, Ellen had to be interviewed.
With great secrecy, and much careful closing of doors, Marjorie and Kitty held a whispered consultation with the good-natured cook.
Ellen consented to all their requests. She agreed to make a birthday cake of real flour and eggs, besides the “float” cake, and she seemed more than willing to prepare a feast that would be acceptable to a hungry Jinks Club, as well as to the heroine of the occasion.
All was to be kept secret from Miss Larkin, so that the celebration might be a complete surprise.
“Ice cream, of course,” whispered Kitty.
“Sure, Miss Kitty,” said Ellen. “Wud ye like it pink an’ white, now; or wid a bit o’ choc’lit?”