Miss Mary-Louise Trainor had planned the Home Exhibit mainly to interest people in such a plan, and she knew perfectly well that one of the best ways of obtaining real publicity for a scheme is to have a girls’ committee work on it. The girls will talk, they will tell everybody everything interesting, and if it was a wonderful old place, which the Stillwell place really was, the girls could be depended upon to let everybody know it.
“But where’s Babs?” Louise asked impatiently. “I just don’t know what to do with this pewter teapot.”
“She won’t know either,” pointed out Ruth. “Stick it over on the spinet.”
“And have my head taken off by Miss Douglass. That’s her spinet,” declared Louise.
“Now Cara has disappeared,” groaned Ruth. “Let’s go and see what’s going on. I know they went out on the back porch.” She was whispering this. “Let’s sneak out and surprise them.”
But Louise and Ruth could not sneak out and leave Esther and Lida alone to battle with the exhibits. So they turned to help Lida while Cara and Babs were still lost to the work and workers of the room.
The back porch of the old house was entirely screened in with high sweet-fern bushes, that one growing green that thrives on sandy soil and in a salty atmosphere. So thick were these bushes that the porch was almost dark behind them, and when Cara tiptoed out she was easily able to reach the little square extension, and hide there without being seen.
“Some one is with her!” Cara was almost saying, for Babs was talking earnestly to some one at the other end of the porch.
“A boy! And he’s crying!” Cara crouched down guiltily for she felt she was seeing and listening to something very, very secret.
Babs spoke, but the boy sobbed. He was actually crying, and that was a remarkable thing for Nicky to do.