“Why, Daisy,” exclaimed Dulcie, bending over her sister in real anxiety, “what is it? Is your head worse?” “It isn’t my head,” Daisy answered, lifting a swollen, tear-stained face from the sofa pillows; “it’s--it’s--oh, girls, I’ve done the most dreadful thing, and I’m so frightened I don’t know what I shall do!” CHAPTER XIII DECORATION DAY The big Decoration Day parade has long become a thing of the past, but in the days when the Winslows were children it was looked upon as one of the principal events of year. All the State militia came to New York for the occasion, and the West Point cadets turned out in full force. For days beforehand people poured into the city, and hotels and boarding-houses were crowded to their utmost capacity. The line of march was down Fifth Avenue from Central Park to Fourteenth Street, and by eight o’clock in the morning the street was thronged with eager sightseers. The Winslows’ house was not on Fifth Avenue, and as Grandma would not allow the children to stand in the street, their only hope of seeing the big parade was the possibility that some one of Grandma’s friends might invite them to her house. “Mrs. Livingston Leroy asked us last year,” Dulcie reminded her sisters. “Perhaps she may again.” “Oh, I hope she will!” cried Molly. “Maud and I couldn’t go last year, and I do love to see the soldiers, and hear the bands. Don’t you hope we can go, Daisy?” “Yes,” answered Daisy, but she did not speak with much enthusiasm. Poor Daisy was not quite her usual cheerful self in those days. She went about with such a strange, absent-minded air that Aunt Kate declared she must be half asleep, and Miss Hammond completely lost her patience, and pronounced her “a very stupid little girl.” Dulcie and Molly were very gentle with her, but even they had little in the way of comfort to offer. Nearly a week had passed since the sending of that letter to Chicago, and as yet no word had been received in reply. “I don’t see how she dared do it,” Molly said to Dulcie, when the two were alone together. “I wouldn’t have done such a thing for the world, would you?” “No, I wouldn’t,” agreed Dulcie. “And to think it should have been Daisy of all people! She never did a bold thing like that before, and she isn’t nearly as likely to get into scrapes as the rest of us.” “She’s afraid to go and see Miss Polly,” said Molly. “She hasn’t been since she sent the letter. I don’t wonder she’s afraid. I should be, too, if I had done such an awful thing as write and tell a lady’s brother something she’d been keeping a secret from him for three years.” It was Maud who, on the evening before Decoration Day, at last brought the glad tidings to the nursery that a note had come from Mrs. Livingston Leroy, inviting the whole family to watch the procession from her windows on Fifth Avenue. “She said all the family, but Grandma says only two of us can go,” finished Maud, ruefully. “Shall we have to draw lots?”