"I've only got five names on my list," Tom said, as the young folks
settled themselves on the porch after supper. "I suppose we'll think
of others later."
"That'll make ten, counting us five, to begin with," Pauline said.
"Bell and Jack Ward," Tom took out his list, "the Dixon boys and Edna
Ray. That's all."
"I'd just like to know where I come in, Tom Brice!" Patience demanded,
her voice vibrant with indignation.
"Upon my word! I didn't suppose--"
"I am to belong! Ain't I, Paul?"
"But Patty--"
"If you're going to say no, you needn't Patty me!"
"We'll see what mother thinks," Hilary suggested. "You wouldn't want
to be the only little girl to belong?"
"I shouldn't mind," Patience assured her, then feeling pretty sure that
Pauline was getting ready to tell her to run away, she decided to
retire on her own account. That blissful time, when she should be
"Miss Shaw," had one drawback, which never failed to assert itself at
times like these--there would be no younger sister subject to her
authority.
"Have you decided what we are to do?" Pauline asked Tom, when Patience
had gone.
"I should say I had. You'll be up to a ride by next Thursday, Hilary?
Not a very long ride.
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