“Why consult me?” returned the latter, with humor. “Did you ever hear of anybody’s being asked about the name she got?”
Linda and Dot both laughed, and Dot gave “Amy” a hug.
“These sandwiches are wonderful!” exclaimed Linda. “Dot, you sure do know how to get good food.”
“Wait till you see the caramel cake I wheedled out of that chef at the hotel. He had made it for a special party, but I convinced him he’d have to make another.”
“You’re marvelous!” cried her chum, admiringly.
Little Amy simply couldn’t say anything. She had never tasted food like this before—at least, if she had, she couldn’t remember. She ate daintily, not greedily, for she wanted it to last a long time.
“Amy had better stay with me at Green Falls,” decided Linda; “because there’s more room at our bungalow.” She and her aunt lived alone together, except for occasional visits from her father, who had a business in New York, while Dorothy Crowley was a member of a large family.
“O.K. with me,” agreed the latter. Then, turning to Amy, “You’ll love Linda’s Aunt Emily. She’s the most motherly soul.”
“You’re sure it is all right for me to go with you?” asked the girl, plaintively.
“Of course it is!” Linda assured her.