Her next move was to line the basket with cotton batting after which she hunted out a doll blanket from her playthings.
“I guess that’ll be enough,” she remarked aloud.
These preparations completed, she tucked the basket under her arm and slipping out the side gates, went over to Grace Dart’s. She had not taken the trouble to ask permission.
About ten minutes later she returned carrying the basket most carefully. Very little was seen of her till train time. When she started down to the station with her mother and Alice she still had the basket with her. Mrs. Morton did not notice it until Chicken Little put it down beside her on the seat of the omnibus.
“What are you bringing that old basket for?” she asked.
“Oh, just ’cause.”
“Well, of all the queer children!” Mrs. Morton sighed. Chicken Little’s whims were very puzzling at times.
Alice suspected that the basket contained some parting gift for herself. Ernest had hung around her at the last and had finally thrust a big bag of candy into her hand—an offering that deeply touched her since she knew he must have spent his last penny to buy it.
