"Mother asked me where I was going," said Molly, "and I told her to 'Breezy Inn.' It almost seemed deceitful, but I think, as we're working for charity, it's all right. You know you mustn't let your left hand know what your right hand is up to."
"That isn't what that means," said Stella, who was a conscientious little girl; and, indeed, they all were, for though inclined to mischief, Midge and Molly never told stories, even by implication.
"But I think it's all right," went on Stella, earnestly, "because it's a surprise. You know Christmas or Valentine's day, it's all right to surprise people, even if you have to 'most nearly deceive them."
And so with no qualms of their honest little hearts, the three started off gayly to peddle their dainty wares for the cause of charity.
"Let's go straight down to the village," suggested Molly, "and let's stop at every house on the way,—there aren't very many,—and then when we get where the houses are thicker we can go separately if we want to."
"I don't want to," insisted Stella; "I'll stay with one of you, anyway."
"All right," said Midget, "and we'll take turns in doing the talking.
This is Mrs. Clarke's house; shall I talk here?"
"Yes," said Molly, "and I'll help you; and if Stella doesn't want to say anything, she needn't."
The three girls with their baskets skipped along the flower-bordered walk to Mrs. Clarke's front door and rang the bell. The white-capped maid, who answered the door, listened to their inquiries for Mrs. Clarke, looked curiously at the bottles, and then said: "Mrs. Clarke is not at home."
"Are you sure?" said Marjorie, in a despairing voice. It seemed dreadful to lose a sale because the lady chanced to be out.