“Of course, you are, dear Aunt Betty! The youngest of us all in some things, Mr. Seth says!”
“So the farrier has been talking, eh? Well, I want to talk a bit, too. In a multitude of counselors there is wisdom—as we have the highest authority to believe; and the case in question is: Shall we, or shall we not, take Luna to the Fair?”
They were all grouped on the big piazza, after their early lunch, waiting for the wagons to come from the stables and carry them to the city beyond; and as Mrs. Betty asked this question a hush of surprise fell on them all. Finally, said Helena:
“We have taken her, she has gone with us, on all our jaunts. Doesn’t it seem too bad to leave her out of this?”
One after another as the lady nodded to each to speak the answer was frankly given, and Dorothy remarked:
“It’s about half-and-half, I guess. Yes, I know she does go to sleep in all sorts of queer places and at the strangest times, but I hate to leave her.”
“Then if she goes she must wear her own clothes.”
“Why, Aunt Betty, please? Of course, I don’t want to see her in that red frock again—I’d like to burn that up so nobody would ever see it and be reminded how careless and unjust I was. But there’s a pretty blue one she could have.”
“That’s not my reason, dearie. I think it has been a mistake, kindly meant, to dress her as you have; that is for longer than was necessary to freshen her own soiled things.” She paused and Alfy remarked:
“She’s the proudest thing for them bright colors. Red, and green, and blue—ary one just sets her smilin’. Besides, once Dinah tried to put back her old brown dress and Luna wouldn’t let her. Just folded her arms up tight and didn’t—didn’t look a mite pleasant.”