"To-day is Saturday. Aunt Mary, Uncle?"
"Exactly. She and Sister Dominic are in town doing some shopping, and she called me up at the office to know at what hour they might see my patient. I told them to come about three o'clock. That will give you plenty of time for a little rest."
"Uncle—please put your head down." Her little arms clasped his neck, and she whispered close to his ear, "I love to be with you, but—but I just can't help wishing that I could go——"
"I know, dear, I know. I, too, wish that you were able to go—that we might both go; but you have no idea what it is going to mean to me to have you with me. I have so many lovely plans that I fear we shall never have time to carry them all out. One is about the pony you will learn to ride when we go South after Christmas to a beautiful, warm place where we shall almost live outdoors under such a bright blue sky that you may have to wear black spectacles. Green ones might be more to your taste, or those new style amber-colored ones."
"What is amber color, Uncle?"
"A deep, golden yellow. Oh, I beg your pardon! Yellow is not your favorite color, nor green, either."
"Nor black, either. If I must wear glasses, they will have to be clear ones like Aunt Mandy's or blue ones."
"But black is not a color. It is the absence of all color. Do you know, it seems to me strange that your hair has escaped——"
"My hair escaped!" Mary felt her head. "Why, Uncle, it is on my head just as tight as ever. You frightened me. I thought it was flying away. I s'pose escaped has more than one meaning just as so many words have. When I forgot to close the door of Dick's cage, and he flew out, Mother said he had escaped."
"In this case, I mean that I am surprised that you have not dyed your hair blue or bleached it white."