“Gozo,” both answered at once.
Marion nodded.
“Right,” she said, “and to me!—me!” She began dancing airily about, waving the letter triumphantly and then caressing it.
Iris shrieked the news across the garden to Taro, pirouetting on his beloved pole. He leaped down and came running to join them.
“Why he ride unto you?” demanded Plum Blossom, enviously.
“Well, now, I’ll tell you,” confided Marion, sweetly. “You know ever since we’ve been here I’ve heard nothing but Gozo, Gozo, Gozo, from you all. Goodness! you never speak a sentence without ‘Gozo’ in it. Well, I began to think him a real hero, and I just longed to know him. Besides”—she lowered her voice—”I did think he ought to be warned about that—about Summer!”
“About Summer?” repeated Plum Blossom, hazily.
“We kinno understan’. You spik so fast.”
“Oh, dear, don’t you see? Why, she’s not good enough for a hero—now is she?”
“Wha’s ‘hero’?” asked Taro, disgustedly. Had they brought him from his favorite sport merely to bother him with words he could not understand.