“They’ll come if it rains cats and dogs,” she maintained. “They wouldn’t miss the chance of playing and singing for the world. And you won’t wonder when you hear Lillie,” she added, with sisterly pride. “I declare, when she sings ‘Break the News to Mother,’ or ‘Just Before the Battle,’ it just brings the tears into my eyes.”
“I don’t think I ever heard either of those songs,” said Gretel. “Are they very beautiful?” To which Dora’s only reply was a confident, “Just wait till you hear them.”
Gretel was in her room reading “Snow-White and the Seven Dwarfs” for about the fiftieth time, when Ada’s voice once more summoned her hand-maiden to her side. She had risen in time for luncheon, and was now lying on the parlor sofa reading a novel, and she greeted Gretel with the smile that always meant she intended asking a particular favor.
“Gretel dear,” she began sweetly, “would you like to do something just awfully nice for me?”
Gretel looked pleased. When Ada spoke in that tone she almost loved her.
“I’ll do anything you want me to,” she said, promptly.
Ada glanced rather uneasily out of the window, at the fast falling rain.
“Well,” she said, “you see, I’ve finished my book, and I haven’t an earthly thing to do this whole afternoon. If it were not for my cold I would just run round to the library for another book, but with this sore throat I really don’t quite dare. So I was wondering if you would mind going for me. It’s only four blocks, you know, and it wouldn’t take you any time.”
“I haven’t any waterproof, but I don’t believe the rain will hurt my dress,” said Gretel, with a dubious glance at the old black skirt, which certainly did not look as though rain or anything else could do it much injury.
Ada smiled sweetly.