"Course there wouldn't be but one I'd want to do first of all," she said. "Hold my hand tight, and big and plain up at the top make it write, 'Mickey-lovest.'"
"Sure," said the boy in a hushed voice. He gripped the hand, bending above her, but suddenly collapsed, buried his face in her hair and sobbed until he shook.
Peaches crouched down, lying rigidly. She was badly frightened. At last she could endure it no longer.
"Mickey!" she gasped. "Mickey, what did I do? Mickey, don't write it if you don't want to!"
Mickey arose, wiping his face on the sheet.
"You just bet I want to write that, Lily!" he said. "I never wanted to do anything more in all my life!"
"Then why——?" she began.
"Never you mind 'why' Miss!" said Mickey.
Grasping her hand, he traced the words. Peaches looked at them a long time, then carefully laid the slate aside. She began fingering the ribbons.
"Let me wash you," said Mickey, "and rub your back to rest you from all this day, then I'll comb your hair and you pick the prettiest one. I'll put it on the way she showed me, so you'll be a fash'nable lady."