Helen came in by the open back door, spoke to Mrs. Merriam, who was getting breakfast, and tore up the stairs to Winnie’s room.
“Oh, there’s such heaps to tell!” she announced before she was well inside the room. “Rings and bands and dresses and ceremonies and—everything! Only we will have to take more girls in. You have to have at least seven to start with.”
Helen stopped for lack of breath, and dropped on the bed. Winnie, who was doing her hair before the mirror, turned around.
“It’s like the Boy Scouts, only it’s girls,” she decided thoughtfully. “Helen, I don’t see why we can’t have just as good times as they do. Tom’s always telling about the glorious times his patrol had last summer, camping up near Wampoag. I don’t see why we shouldn’t go camping, too, and have heaps of fun!”
“Why, of course we can!” agreed Helen. “None of your mothers will mind if Nannie goes along, and she’ll have to if she’s Guardian.”
“Come on down and have breakfast with us,” invited Winnie, straightening up from her last shoe-lace. “You haven’t told me half the things there are to tell.”
“Well, I’ve had breakfast,” said Helen, “but——”
“Oh, you can eat some more,” insisted Winnie. “We’re going to have flapjacks and maple syrup.”
“Well, all right,” said Helen, weakening. Flapjacks and maple syrup did sound good. So they went down together to the breakfast table.
Winnie’s family, her father and mother and her brother Tom, and eight-year-old Florence, had to be told all about it.