So it was agreed that they should all meet next morning at nine o’clock for a visit to St. Peter’s.
“Unless we start early,” said Patty, “we’ll never get there.”
“How bright of you to see that,” said Lancaster, admiringly; “and I say, everybody must bring postcards.”
“I can’t; I’m saving mine,” said Floyd Austin.
“Saving them! What for?” asked Violet.
“To make a bed quilt,” he replied gravely; “they make a lovely one. You tie them together at the corners you know, with bits of tiny ribbon.”
“What a goose you are,” said Patty, laughing; “you’re just foolish enough for our club. Save your postcards then,—you can look over mine.”
“And mine,” said Flo. “I’ve a bigger pack even than Patty.”
“I’ve something better than postcards,” said Floyd, as he produced a small, thin, red book. “Have any of you seen this?”