Lulu’s was the joint production of Eva and Grace, and gave an interesting account of the doings and sayings of the babies and the parrot.
The last-named, they said, was continually calling “Lu, Lu, what you ’bout? Where you been?”
The letter told, too, of the beautiful singing of Gracie’s canaries, the doings of her kitten, and of Max’s big dog Prince. There was more about the last-named in Max’s own letter, which was from Violet, with a postscript by Grace.
The captain read his letter from Violet, first to himself, then portions of it aloud to the children; then they offered him theirs, and he read them aloud in turn, and chatted pleasantly with them about the contents of all three.
“Well,” he said at length, “if we are going to take that walk, it is about time we were setting out. Lulu, you may put on your hat, while I glance over these other letters.”
That was a welcome order to the little girl, and it did not take her many minutes to obey it. They found Mr. Short on the pavement before the front gate as they went out.
“Ah, captain,” he said, “I was just coming to ask if you did not feel inclined for a stroll about the town. May I have the pleasure of acting as your guide?”
“It will be conferring a favor, sir, if you will do so,” replied the person addressed, and the two walked on, leaving Max and Lulu to follow.
“I wish he hadn’t come,” she muttered discontentedly. “I thought I was going to have the pleasure of walking beside papa with my hand in his.”
“That’s very pleasant for you,” said Max, “but I think you might care almost as much to walk with me, considering that you’ll probably not have many more such opportunities to do so.”