“There goes the bell! It’s the letter carrier! Let me answer!” Freddie exclaimed.
“Oh, let me! It’s my turn this week!” cried Flossie.
“But I see a blue envelope. That’s from Aunt Sarah!” the brother cried.
Meanwhile both children, Freddie and Flossie, were making all possible efforts to reach the front door, which Freddie finally did by jumping over the little divan that stood in the way, it being sweeping day.
“I beat you,” laughed the boy, while his sister stood back, acknowledging defeat.
“Well, Dinah had everything in the way and anyhow, maybe it was your turn. Mother is in the sewing room, I guess!” Flossie concluded, and so the two started in search of the mother, with the welcome letter from Aunt Sarah tight in Freddie’s chubby fist.
Freddie and Flossie were the younger of the two pairs of twins that belonged to the Bobbsey family. The little ones were four years old, both with light curls framing pretty dimpled faces, and both being just fat enough to be good-natured. The other twins, Nan and Bert, were eight years old, dark and handsome, and as like as “two peas” the neighbors used to say. Some people thought it strange there should be two pairs of twins in one house, but Nan said it was just like four-leaf clovers, that always grow in little patches by themselves.
This morning the letter from Aunt Sarah, always a welcome happening, was especially joyous.
“Do read it out loud,” pleaded Flossie, when the blue envelope had been opened in the sewing room by Mrs. Bobbsey.
“When can we go?” broke in Freddie, at a single hint that the missive contained an invitation to visit Meadow Brook, the home of Aunt Sarah in the country.
“Now be patient, children,” the mother told them. “I’ll read the invitation in just a minute,” and she kept her eyes fastened on the blue paper in a way that even to Freddie and Flossie meant something very interesting.
“Aunt Sarah wants to know first how we all are.”
“Oh, we’re all well,” Freddie interrupted, showing some impatience.
“Do listen, Freddie, or we won’t hear,” Flossie begged him, tugging at his elbow.
“Then she says,” continued the mother, “that this is a beautiful summer at Meadow Brook.”