“Well,” said Mrs. Merrill practically, as she glanced at her watch, “I wouldn’t call that such a hopelessly long time if I were you. It’s after seven now and nobody’s even started to dress. Of course you don’t want any breakfast,” she added teasingly, “but—”
“Of course we do, you mean, Mother,” laughed Alice; “I hope the surprise won’t interfere with eating—I wouldn’t like that.”
“Well then,” continued Mrs. Merrill, “if we have to dress and eat and maybe take a little walk to look at the shops and maybe do something else I know we could do—and it’s nice, too—I think it’s a pretty good thing the surprise doesn’t come till eleven.”
When the girls sat down to the breakfast table a half an hour later they were glad they had plenty of leisure to enjoy their meal for such fruit, such fish and such delicious Southern biscuit they never had eaten before.
“I just wish there was two of me, one named Mary and one named Jane,” said Mary Jane, as she eyed the plate of biscuits and the honey regretfully, “’cause then one of me could eat some more. But seeing I’m just one all together, I can’t!”
“I think it’s time for a walk anyway,” said Mrs. Merrill. “You know we didn’t have a chance to look at all those nice little shops yesterday and that’s sure to be fun.”
And it was. The girls and their mother too, enjoyed poking about in the little sidewalk shops that lined the main street and they saw many pretty things they thought of taking home to Grandmother Hodges or some friend.
“Mother!” exclaimed Alice suddenly, “see that clock? It’s only quarter before ten and the surprise doesn’t come till eleven. How are we going to wait all that time?”
“We’re not,” said Mrs. Merrill, as she made a sudden plan; “we’re going swimming.”
“Swimming!” exclaimed Mary Jane; “where’s the lake?”