“I am so sorry to leave you on your first afternoon, Gretel,” she said, regretfully, “but I have no end of things to attend to before we leave for Washington. Do you mind staying at home, or would you rather come out with me?”
“I think I’ll stay at home unless you need me for anything,” said Gretel. “There is always something rather exciting in going over all my old treasures when I haven’t seen them for three months, and besides, I want to play on the dear old piano. I suppose Percy is in Washington.”
“He has been for the past week, but I have just received a telegram, saying he’s coming home for a few days. He said he would be here this afternoon, but didn’t mention the train, so I can’t meet him at the station.”
Gretel looked pleased. She was very fond of her brother, and the thought of his absence had been the one shadow on her home-coming.
“I am so glad,” she said. “Oh, it is good to know we are going to be all together this summer! You must give me lots of work to do, Barbara; I want to be busy every minute. Of course we’ve been doing a lot of knitting at school. I’ve made three pairs of socks for the soldiers already. I was the only girl who knew how to knit socks, and I taught Molly and Angel Thayer.”
“And how did you learn yourself?” Mrs. Douaine asked in some surprise.
Gretel laughed and blushed.
“I hardly know how I did learn,” she said. “Old Mrs. Lippheim taught me to knit when I was nine, and I suppose knitting comes to me naturally. Ada Godfrey says it comes from my German ancestors.”
Gretel spoke cheerfully, but there was a little embarrassment in her tone which her sister-in-law did not fail to notice.
“I hope none of the girls have made unkind remarks about your German ancestors,” she said, rather anxiously.