For a moment Daisy hesitated, and then, with sudden determination, she took off her own hat, and held it out to Dulcie.
“Let’s change,” she proposed cheerfully. “You’re the eldest, and ought to look the best, and I really don’t mind a bit.”
Dulcie drew back, blushing.
“As if I would do anything so mean,” she declared, indignantly. “I believe you’re one of the most unselfish people in the world, Daisy. It was all my own fault, anyhow. If I had taken an umbrella that day, as Grandma told me to, I wouldn’t have spoiled my hat. Now, suppose we go down and wait for Uncle Stephen on the sidewalk. It’s rather hot up here, with all our things on.”
This suggestion was greeted with favor, and a few minutes later the front door had closed behind four very happy little girls. Grandma and Aunt Kate were both out, so there was no one but Mary to see them start, but Mary happened to be in a good humor that morning, and greatly comforted Dulcie by the assurance that nobody would notice the spots on her hat, and that they all looked “just as nice as could be.”
“We’ll walk up and down,” said Dulcie; “it’s too cold to stand still, but we mustn’t go far, or we might miss Uncle Stephen. Oh, it is grand to be going somewhere, isn’t it?”
“Do you suppose there’ll be ice-cream for lunch?” inquired Maud, anxiously.
“Of course there will be,” said Molly. “You can have anything you want at a hotel. You just pay a dollar, and they’ll bring you whatever you ask for. I know, because Papa took me to the Clarendon once, the time you all had the measles, and mine hadn’t come out yet.”
“Can you even ask for two helpings?” questioned Maud, with sparkling eyes.
“Yes, I guess so, but perhaps it wouldn’t be polite to take more than one. Uncle Stephen might think it was piggish.”