“Have you thought of any plan?”
“No, not yet. I talked the thing over with Lily and John Hadley—he and Dick Roberts were here for dinner last night—but nobody could suggest a thing. Still, John promised to consult his mother, and you know she’s pretty clever about things like that. She’s done a lot of social work.”
“Wasn’t it sweet of her to send Doris that book?” remarked Daisy. “By the way, I wanted to see it.”
Strolling to the table where Doris had brought her presents, Daisy picked up the book and carried it over to where Marjorie was sitting. Idly they turned the pages together.
“It certainly is a picturesque spot,” observed Marjorie, charmed by the sketches of the historic creek and the old buildings in its vicinity. “I wish I could see it.”
“We’ll all have to visit Doris after she gets settled,” said Daisy. “A little reunion for the senior patrol.”
“Daisy!” cried Marjorie, abruptly. “I have it—an inspiration! Why not get permission to run a little tea-room in one of these historic places along the Wissahickon—all summer—taking turns in managing it! We could support Betty!”
“Marvellous!” cried Daisy, so loud that the other girls all stopped talking to inquire what had brought forth the exclamation.
It was then that Daisy told them of her adventure—of the errand upon which Mrs. Evans had sent Florence and herself; of the finding of the sick woman and the temporary adoption of the baby, and of her promise for its future if the mother should die. Before the girls could even ask her any questions, Marjorie followed her explanation with a recital of her own newly thought of plan.
“But you’d never get permission to use the Park, or any of those buildings,” said Ethel, who always saw the practical side of every undertaking.