“She’s afraid to go and see Miss Polly,” said Molly. “She hasn’t been since she sent the letter. I don’t wonder she’s afraid. I should be, too, if I had done such an awful thing as write and tell a lady’s brother something she’d been keeping a secret from him for three years.”
It was Maud who, on the evening before Decoration Day, at last brought the glad tidings to the nursery that a note had come from Mrs. Livingston Leroy, inviting the whole family to watch the procession from her windows on Fifth Avenue.
“She said all the family, but Grandma says only two of us can go,” finished Maud, ruefully. “Shall we have to draw lots?”
“No,” said Dulcie, though her face had fallen at the news. “You and Molly must go, of course; Daisy and I went last year.”
Maud gave a little skip of delight, but Molly looked grave.
“I hate doing things without you and Daisy,” she said. “Don’t you think Grandma may change her mind and let us all go?”
“Grandma never changes her mind,” affirmed Dulcie, which was, indeed, quite true.
Mrs. Winslow told them all of the invitation, and added that she would take two of the little girls with her, but that as to taking four children out of one household, the idea was not to be considered for a moment.
“Mrs. Livingston Leroy seems to be a very kind lady,” ventured Molly. “Do you think she would mind very much if we all went?”
“I should mind,” returned Grandma, grimly, “and that is more to the point. You may decide among yourselves which are to go, and which remain at home.”