“So you see I’m dying to keep her,” she concluded: “but of course I can’t afford it. Can you think of any possible way?”
Marjorie was silent for a moment, lost in thought.
“Yes,” she said, finally. “Couldn’t you put it up to Pansy Troop to provide for her as another of their good turns?”
Daisy’s spirits, which had brightened at the intimation of a solution, sank again when she heard the reply. She shook her head sadly.
“Couldn’t be done, Marj! We run on a budget now, and all the money we can possibly raise for charity next year is already pledged. I’m afraid that’s out of the question.”
Marjorie appeared disappointed, and Florence drew down the corners of her mouth to hide a smile. Before anything further could be said they were reminded of the baby’s presence by a sudden cry. Daisy dashed up stairs at once, with Marjorie and Florence at her heels.
“Oh, she’s adorable!” exclaimed Marjorie, for she was a girl who loved babies under any circumstances, even when they cried.
Daisy lifted the little girl tenderly in her arms, and the wails instantly ceased.
“And her name’s Elizabeth—the same as Mrs. Remington’s!” she remarked, referring to the former, beloved captain of Pansy Troop.
“That settles it!” announced Marjorie, emphatically. “Now we have to adopt her. The old senior patrol will do it!”