"How do you know? Aren't you just making it up, Betty?"
"No, indeed; we read about Dorcas, and the poor widows, and their coats, in the Bible itself. Now, why don't you two girls invite two or three of your school friends in one afternoon, and pretend to be Dorcas and her neighbours? I'll be Dorcas, if you like, and we'll make little garments for poor widows and fatherless children, and chat together, just as Dorcas and her friends did, hundreds and hundreds of years ago."
"Who'll be the widows?" asked Jennie, much interested.
"Oh, real widows and orphans; just like those Dorcas worked for. Then, perhaps, we could have tea out of doors, and I'll mix some of those nice buns which Grannie showed me how to make. We would drink our tea out of mugs, because, in the days when Dorcas lived, no one had cups and saucers."
"Oh, that would be lovely!" cry the girls. "Who shall we ask to come, Betty?" adds Jennie alone.
"Anyone you like—that is, any nice girl."
"Millie and Ida Davis are both nice as nice. Then there's Flo——"
"We mustn't have too many at first. Suppose we each invite one friend? I choose Minnie White for mine."
"Oh, Minnie White's always so prim and proper; just because she's an Army girl; not a bit of fun in her."
"You're quite wrong, Jennie. Minnie is as full of real fun as she can be. She doesn't like rough ways, and senseless jokes; but I only wish you looked one-half as happy as she does! Well, dears, choose the best and most unselfish girls you know; this is to be a very special kind of meeting, you see."