“Good-bye, darling Papa. We all love you more than we can possibly say, and we hope you and the stepmother will be very happy. If you should be a little angry at first, and disappointed not to find us here, please don’t blame any one but me, because it was really all my fault. I thought of the whole plan, and Daisy didn’t want to do it at all. We haven’t told Molly and Maud yet, because it is very early, and they are both asleep, but I am going to wake them in a few minutes. We must get off before Grandma wakes, or she might make a fuss.
“Your own little girl,
“Dulcie.
“P. S.—We have plenty of money. Uncle Stephen sent it in a letter last week. He said it was for candy and firecrackers for the Fourth, but we can live on it till we get some work, so please don’t worry about us any more than you can help.”
“It’s a beautiful letter,” commended Daisy, wiping her eyes. “I don’t see how you always know just the right things to say. Perhaps Papa won’t be angry when he understands, but it does seem a dreadful thing not to be here when he comes.” And Daisy choked back a rising sob.
The next hour was a very busy one for the little Winslows. In the first place, Molly and Maud had to be awakened, and the wonderful plan explained to them. Not an easy task, for at the first mention of the fact that they were to go away before their father’s arrival both children began to cry, and Molly persisted, amid sobs, “that nothing—no, nothing in the world, not even the cruelest stepmother one had ever heard of—would induce her to go anywhere before Papa came home.” But again, as with Daisy, Dulcie ended in having her own way. Indeed, she drew such a terrible picture of stepmothers in general that at last Maud was frightened, and Molly was forced into a half-hearted consent to the plan. Then began the preparations for departure. They had to be very quiet, for Grandma was a light sleeper, but Dulcie crept up-stairs to the storeroom, whence she returned with a shabby leather travelling-bag, and in due time they were ready.
“Now we must go down-stairs on tiptoe,” commanded Dulcie, who, from the beginning, had taken command of the expedition. “The front door is locked, but it’s morning, so there can’t be any harm in leaving it unfastened till Mary and Bridget come down. They’ll only think we got up early, and went for a walk. We did it once last summer, you know. Now, is everybody ready?”
“Where shall we get our breakfast?” Maud inquired, anxiously.
“We shall have to wait till we get to Peak’s Point. There are plenty of stores there, and we can buy something at a baker’s. It will be like a picnic, you know. O dear! I didn’t think this bag would be so heavy! I’m afraid we’ve taken too many things.”
“It doesn’t seem as if we were taking much,” said Daisy. “I thought we ought each to have an extra dress, but the bag wouldn’t shut when I tried to put them in. I really don’t believe we can get on with any less, Dulcie; we’ve got to be clean, you know.”
But Dulcie—who had made an attempt to lift the heavy valise—shook her head resolutely.