“I have an idea that may help you, Darry,” Jessie continued complacently.
“Shoot!” urged Darry. “Don’t keep us on tenterhooks. This is serious, I tell you. Belle Ringold said she’d meet me at Carter’s, and she’d have a hatbox of lunch.”
“Shoebox,” put in Burd sepulchrally. “That’s what the Moon said to me.”
“At a box party you don’t actually have to accept the invitation of the first girl who tells you about it,” Jessie said demurely. “You might get out your launch, Darry, and Amy and I will be able to find lunch enough for four people. Besides, we know Burd’s capacity and taste——”
“Oh! Oh!” groaned Burd. “A foul blow, that.”
“That’s a bully good idea,” Darry declared. “I’d a whole lot rather have you kids along than Belle Ringold and the Moon girl.”
Jessie and Amy looked at each other, and both shook their heads. Secretly Darry’s cheerful assumption of the childishness of his sister and his sister’s chum hurt the latter’s pride more than it did Amy’s. But Jessie appeared to accept it quite as Darry’s sister did.
“Thanks for them kind words, Sir Galahad,” murmured Amy. “Who ever said you were the pink of politeness, Darrington Drew?”
“Oh, well,” said Darry carelessly. “You know what I mean.”