“That’s about all that would interest you.”
“My dear, anything concerning Ernest interests me,” protested her mother.
“But it isn’t about Ernest; it’s about Carol Brown.”
“Well, what is it?”
“Oh, nothing much–he just took a fancy to my picture and asked Ernest a lot of questions.” Chicken Little folded the letter and hastily slipped it back into the envelope, devoutly hoping her mother wouldn’t demand to see it. She tore open Katy’s. Before she had read two lines she gave a little cry of delight.
“Oh, Mother, do you think I could? Oh, wouldn’t 375it be just too wonderful? Oh Mother, you must say Yes!”
“Jane, what are you talking about? Calm yourself and tell me.” Mrs. Morton looked up over her spectacles severely.
“Why, she says her mother wants me to come and live with them next year and go to the High School and that Alice and Dick want me to come there. And, perhaps, I could stay part of the time at one house and part at the other, and for me to tell you and let you be thinking about it, and Alice and Mrs. Halford are both going to write you all about it, and–oh, Mother, wouldn’t it be too wonderful?”
Mrs. Morton looked both surprised and worried. “It is certainly most kind of them all, but I shall have to think the matter over.”
“Well,” said Frank, “that doesn’t have to be settled to-day. Jane, Marian wishes to know if you want to go over to the Captain’s with her to see Sherm. She is going to start in a few minutes.”