“Oh, I’d like that,” said Vicky. Then she stopped, doubtfully. “That is, if I could pick out the ones.”
“Of course, you’d invite your own guests,” Winona assured her. “And we’d pay what we cost your uncle extra.... But what about him? It’s his house, and he mightn’t like it.”
“Oh, he’d never care,” said Vicky. “He never knows much about what goes on, anyway! And I know he’d like to have me learn how to be a well-bred little gentlewoman, because he talks about it sometimes. And anyway he’s going off somewhere where he can’t take us some time soon.”
“Then I don’t see why we can’t manage it!” said Winona enthusiastically. “But I can tell you now about the clothes. You want to buy dresses that will wash. And you don’t ever want to play in silk dresses, or even organdies or batistes—tree-climbing, and things like that, I mean.”
“I might get some middies, like you wear,” said Vicky thoughtfully. “And I suppose, long’s I’m going to reform, I might as well get Sand to keep her dresses on. She goes chasing out in her underwaist and petticoat sometimes.”
“Oh, that was why she hadn’t any on when Louise found her!” said Winona, seeing a light.
“Yes,” confessed Vicky. “What’s that noise?”
“That’s the horn,” said Winona. “It must mean that it’s bedtime. She’s playing ‘taps.’ Mrs. Bryan signals us with it, always.”
“I think I’d like to be a Blue Bird,” said Vicky. “But I like the other plan better,” she added quickly.
“We’re going to be here quite a while longer,” said Winona, “so you’ll have lots of time to think whether you want us and whether your uncle will be willing.”