"Are we to carry luncheon?" asked Gracie, lazily, not making any sign of getting out of the hammock.
"Yes. Mrs. Jackson said we'd carry luncheon. She said she would take sandwiches, cookies, and jelly. We can supply something else. Suppose we have some boiled eggs. And I'll run to our favorite baker's and get a nice cake—one of those delicious white ones, you know. Won't it be splendid?"
"What shall you wear?" asked Gracie, now bestirring herself a bit.
"My pink lawn, I guess," replied Norma. "But I shall have to hurry, for the eggs must be boiled at once, so as to give them time to get cold and solid in the ice box. Otherwise, they wouldn't be fit for the lunch basket."
And away ran busy Norma to the kitchen to put the eggs to boil.
Within a short time Norma had the eggs nicely boiled and cooling in the ice box while she was getting her frock, shoes, hat, and other accessories to her afternoon attire, laid out all ready to wear.
But Gracie was not quite so energetic. She had left the hammock and gone to her own room to look over her frocks to see which one might be fit to wear. A blue dimity was selected as being in the best wearing condition, but in looking it over she found a rent in the skirt and two buttons gone. "Oh, just my luck," she declared petulantly. "I never have a frock in shape to put right on. I do believe I'll ask mamma—if she has returned—to sew on the buttons and mend the rent. Let me see—the lace is all torn in places on my white lawn. The buttons are off my checked batiste. Yes, this blue dimity will be the best." So taking it in her arms, she went down stairs to the sitting room.
Mrs. Wilson had just returned from making some calls and was listening to Norma's explanation of the good time in store for Gracie and herself that afternoon and evening. "I knew you would not mind our going mamma," Norma was saying, "so I just accepted at the moment."