“Ah, here comes Edith Kingsley!” Marian exclaimed, as the gate opened and a girl a year or two younger than herself, a neighbor and intimate friend of hers, came tripping up the path.
Lulu had met Edith several times and liked her, for she was a pleasant, sunny-tempered child, innocent and artless.
“Good-morning, girls,” she said. “I just ran over for a minute to tell you that a party of us are going berrying this afternoon, and to ask you both to go along.”
“I’d like to, if mother can spare me,” said Marian. “But isn’t it very warm!”
“Not so warm as it was,” replied Edith; “there are floating clouds now, so that the sun doesn’t shine so hot, and a nice breeze has sprung up. You’ll go, won’t you, Lulu?” turning to the latter.
“Thank you; I feel a strong inclination to go, but I can’t, as papa is not here to give me leave.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’d say you might go,” returned Edith, with eager entreaty in her tones; “the place we are going to is only a little beyond the edge of town, and the berries are so thick we shall fill our baskets directly and be back long, long before dark. So what objection could he find?”
“He said he wanted me to stay in the house till he came back,” replied Lulu, “he didn’t want me exposed to the heat of the sun, and hoped to be back in time to take me for a walk or ride in the cool of the evening.”
“Oh, if that was all, I’m sure he would say you could go, because the sun isn’t hot any longer. And he didn’t positively forbid you, did he?”
“No,” Lulu said slowly, as if striving to recall his exact words; “he only said he wanted me to stay within doors, and gave that reason for it; and I’m pretty sure if he were here he would give me permission to go.”