At the McQuire home, Veve opened her eyes in a semi-dark bedroom. She knew it must be morning because she could hear saucy sparrows chirping on the window sill. The room, though, was shadowy.
“Oh, dear!” thought the little girl. “I hope it isn’t going to rain and ruin the cherry festival.”
For a moment she lay very still, wishing hard that the day would be a bright one.
Then she leaped out of bed and ran to the window. The Venetian blind had been pulled down and was flapping in the breeze.
Veve raised it and looked out. The sun was shining brightly!
“Oh, it will be a fine day!” she told herself in relief.
Veve was afraid she already had wasted valuable time. Quickly she put on her pinchecked Brownie uniform, a crisp fresh tie, and brushed her hair until it shone.
When she skipped down the stairs, her mother had breakfast waiting.
“How nice you look, Veve,” she said. “Oh, by the way, Miss Gordon telephoned before you were up.”
“What did she say, Mother?”