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Updated: May 21, 2025
Aunt Ellen, creaking in her new silks, toiled up the stairs, an old, shaky hand on the balustrade. "Come up, girls," she quavered; "you must be dead tired." "Well," breathed Lorry with questioning eyes on her sister, "how was it?" Chrystie jumped at her and folded her in a rapturous embrace. "Oh, it was maddening, blissful, rip-roarious!
As for Vivia, she burst into tears. "Oh, Ray!" sobbed she, "I wish I were a man!" "I don't!" said he. "Oh, it's rip-roarious! Come, let's follow our leader. We'll bring you back the cropple-crown, auntie." And so they departed, while, breaking into fresh carols, ringing and dulcet, as they went, Vivia's voice resounded till the woods pealed to the echo:
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