Lovingly,
Anna I. Clifford.
P.S.—When you send the boots, perhaps if you put them in a fair-sized box, there'll be room for a cooky or two.
A. I. C.
"Isn't that a happy letter!"
"Think of our dainty, exquisite Anna so independent! her pretty brown curls straightened out in a braid, and her dresses shorn of puffs and ruffles!"
"That's the kind of 'society' for school-girls to form," says papa. "I'll order the thickest boots I can find to be sent up; also a chicken for Bridget to roast; and as she has given us so delicate a hint, perhaps you can find something else to put in the box."
Afternoon finds the Clifford family again assembled in the dining-room, intent upon packing the boots and "cookies"; and from the size of the box on the table one would infer that the boots must be No. 17's, and the cookies as large as cheeses, or, more correctly, that something more is to be added.
"Wouldn't it be fine to send five things for the club individually?" asks one.
"Capital!" "Good!" "Just the thing!" cry all.
"And have their initials spell Aegis."