“There, Larky Parky; it’s all right. You’re not mussed up a bit. Nothing’s busted but the carriage. And I guess we can get that wheel fixed. And, Jiminetty Christmas! I had to tumble about a little, to get limbered up after that stiff party. Oh, I say, Larky, dear, did you get us our scrap-book, as you promised?”
“Oh, I didn’t!” exclaimed Miss Larkin, looking greatly chagrined. “To tell you the truth, King, I forgot all about it.”
“It’s naughty to be forgetful.”
“Yes, King, I know it is; and I’m awfully sorry. But I had a letter from some friends who are coming to visit me here, and everything else went out of my mind.”
The Maynard children had already had some experience with Miss Larkin’s forgetfulness, so they were not greatly surprised.
But they were disappointed, and Kitty’s face showed it so plainly, that Miss Larkin said:
“I’ll do my best to repair my error, Kitty. I’ll go downtown to-night, right after dinner, and get the scrap-book.”
“Oh, no, Miss Larkin, you needn’t do that,” said Marjorie, quite overcome by this offer. “It’s too late and too dark for you to go out alone. Unless,” she added, as an afterthought, “we all go with you.”
“Oh, let us do that,” begged Kitty. “I’ve almost never been downtown at night. Oh, do let’s go! It would be lovely!”
“Would that make up to you for my forgetfulness?” asked Miss Larkin, smiling, and when they all chorused, “Yes!” she agreed to take them.