Presently, as they tripped along, Tom said to Becky:

“Say⁠—I’ll tell you what we’ll do. ’Stead of going to Joe Harper’s we’ll climb right up the hill and stop at the Widow Douglas’. She’ll have ice-cream! She has it most every day⁠—dead loads of it. And she’ll be awful glad to have us.”

“Oh, that will be fun!”

Then Becky reflected a moment and said:

“But what will mamma say?”

“How’ll she ever know?”

The girl turned the idea over in her mind, and said reluctantly:

“I reckon it’s wrong⁠—but⁠—”