Mrs. Smith was building a new house, and Dorothy and the Ethels had planted a flower garden on the new lot although the house was not yet done.  They had arranged to have a succession of pink blossoms.  For fear it would not turn out well because they had not been able to have the soil put in as good condition as they wanted on account of the disturbed state of the place with workmen constantly crossing, they had tried another pink garden at Rose House, and the Ethels had planted still another bed in their own yard.

“Among them all I should think we ought to find enough, if all the blossoms don’t take it into their heads to fall off the very day before,” said Ethel Brown gloomily.

“Don’t talk that way!” insisted Ethel Blue.  “We’ll find lots of pink flowers and Aunt Louise’s drawing-room will look lovely.”

“We can put some of the feathery white with it.”

“And we must find some soft green somewhere.  The coloring of the room is so delicate that the pink and white effect will be charming,” and Helen leaned back against the tree trunk with a satisfied smile.

“The next point is that Aunt Louise says she’d be very glad if we’d all assist at the reception just as we do at Mother’s teas—­handing things to eat and being nice to people.”

They all nodded their understanding of their duties.

“Are all of you girls going to be dressed alike?” asked Tom.

“No, sir.  Delia is to be maid of honor.  She’s to wear the most delicate shade of pink you can imagine.  The Ethels are to have a shade that is just a wee bit darker, and Margaret and I are to come last—­”

“Being the tallest.”

“—­wearing real rose-colored frocks.  It’s going to be beautiful.”

“I can easily believe it,” declared James, making an attempt at a bow that was defeated by the fact that he was lying on his back and found the exploit too difficult to achieve.  “I also seem to see you flitting around the house under those pink decorations.  You’ll run the bride hard.”

“Edward won’t think so,” laughed Tom.  “Now what are we going to give to Gertrude—­”

“Hear him say ’Gertrude’,” said Ethel Blue under her breath.

“She asked us to.  Of course we call her by her name.  She’s going to be our sister.”

The Ethels looked quite depressed, for calling Miss Gertrude by her first name was a privilege they knew they never should have.

“I was inquiring what we’re going to give Gertrude as a Club.  We Watkinses are going to give her something as a family, and Delia and I have each picked out a special present from us ourselves—­”

“That’s the way we’re doing,” came from the Mortons.

“—­but I think it would be nice to give her something from the whole of us, because if it hadn’t been for the Club and the Club baby she wouldn’t have come here at all.”

“Let’s put our colossal intellects on it,” urged Roger.