Sally had been looking out of the window, and suddenly she leaned forward and knocked on the glass and waved.
"Look!" she exclaimed. "There's little Donald; isn't he the cutest youngster?"
Phyllis waved too, then she looked puzzled.
"Funny," she said under her breath.
"What is?" Janet demanded.
"Oh, nothing."
Daphne looked back at Donald through the window above her head.
"Isn't that Donald Keith?" she asked, and Phyllis nodded.
"It is Donald Francis MacFarlan Keith,"—she laughed, "or so he told me with much pardonable pride. He was most sympathetic when I had to confess to only two names."
"His father's a friend of my uncle's," Daphne explained. "It's little Don's cousin, Chuck Vincent, that Muriel walks home with every day. I've played tennis with him, and he's really rather fun for a boy," she drawled.