She paused, catching her breath. "So she withdrew from the parade at the last minute and we were asked instead."

"I'm pleased for you," I said, although privately I agreed with the principal. "So I take it you'll not be doing science experiments either?"

Bridie giggled. "No. Some of us are going to be sitting around someone who is giving a talk on health and nutrition. Healthy bodies, healthy minds. And others are going to be dancing, cook-ing, and mending. But it doesn't matter. Twelve of us were chosen and I was one of them."

"Wonderful," I said, trying to make my face show only enthusiasm when in reality I was worried.

"You don't seem really happy for me," Bridie said.

"Oh, I am. Honestly, my darling. It's just... well, you probably know that money is tight at the moment, so if you're all going to have to have expensive costumes made for a parade that is less than a week away..." I couldn't finish the sentence. I didn't want to say that she couldn't take part.

"Oh no. Not at all," Bridie replied. "As soon as Blanche's mother heard that Blanche is going to be in the parade, she said she'd have identical white dresses made for all of us. She has a seamstress that can do it quickly. Wasn't that kind of her?"

"It was. Blanche's mother is always very generous."

"So you don't have to worry about a thing." Bridie gave a little sigh of happiness. "A new dress and thousands of people seeing me in a parade! How could anything be more perfect?" She paused, smiling down at Mary Kate now, who had stopped eating and was staring up at Bridie in absolute fascination. "Did you understand that, Mary Kate?" Bridie said. "I'm going to be in a parade."

Obviously Mary Kate had no idea what a parade was, but she gave a grin, revealing her new teeth. "Bye-bye," she said.

This, we had worked out, was not saying goodbye but her version of Bridie. My son, Liam, now almost five, had been playing out in the back garden. Hearing Bridie's voice, he now came in.

"Bridie's home!" he exclaimed, flinging open the door.

I took one look at the muddy shoes, hands, and knees and stopped him. "Hold it right there, boyo. You get yourself cleaned up at the outside tap before you come and hear your sister's news."

"I'm going to be in a parade, Liam," Bridie called after him. "One of those big parades."

"On a boat? A navy boat?" He paused in the doorway. He had lately become obsessed with ships.

"No, silly. On a float."

He looked puzzled. The only float in his vocabulary was a root beer one.

"It's like a big, decorated platform pulled by horses, going down Fifth Avenue," I explained. "We'll go and watch her and cheer."

"And guess what, Mama!" She was off and dancing around again. "Some girls will have hoops. We are supposed to roll them to each other in a ladylike manner..." She paused. "Oh Lordy. I hope I don't lose mine and it rolls off the float."

"I expect some kind spectator will retrieve it," I said. "And you'll be practicing a lot first."

She nodded. "There will be more girls walking beside the float carrying banners with our school's name on them." She broke off as something else occurred to her. "Oh, and I forgot to tell you. Blanche's mother is paying for the dresses but we have to have matching shoes and little crowns of flowers on our hair. We have to buy those ourselves. The shoes are from Lord & Taylor on Broadway. They are white patent with a little bow at the toe. Really pretty. Miss Amelia showed them to us today so we'll know which ones to buy. And she suggests white silk stockings to go with them, as the skirts show our ankles. Maybe we can go to the store tomorrow? And the crowns are being made for us. They have little rhinestones in them so they'll sparkle. Of course, we'll have to curl our hair the night before. Blanche is going to have a beauty stylist come to the house that morning. Oh gee whiz, I hope it doesn't rain!"

As she spoke I was doing mental calculations about how much a pair of good shoes, silk stockings, and a crown might cost. Bridie seemed oblivious to the fact that money might be a concern right now. She was proving she was a true fourteen-year-old by forgetting to be sophisticated, grabbing two slices of bread and slathering them liberally with jam.