Not until she was in her own room, seated in a comfortable chair and gazing at them anxiously, did they tell the poor waif of the good fortune in store for her.
"Uncle John," announced Patsy, "has invited you to join our party and go to California with us." Myrtle stared a moment, as if trying to realize what that meant.

The tiny Mumbles, sitting beside the chair with his head cocked to one side, suddenly made a prodigious leap and landed in Myrtle's lap, where he began licking her chin and wagging his stumpy tail as if seconding the invitation.

As the girl stroked his soft hair her eyes filled with tears.
"Oh, you are all so kind to me!" she sobbed, losing her composure.
"But I can't go! Of course I can't go." "Why not ?" asked Beth, smiling.
"It would be an--impersition!" Poor Myrtle sometimes stumbled over big words.

"I know that.

I can't let you burden your happy party with a poor cripple, just because your hearts are kind and you pity me!" "Nonsense!" said Beth.