This was such an unexpected outcome of the morning's affair, that the two little girls retired behind the door and hugged each other, and then briskly went to work to set the table, upon which Mr. Atkinson placed various articles.
"I keep a lot of such truck in here," he told them. "So, in case I get hungry, I can find a bite to eat. Do you like sardines or canned salmon best?"
"Sardines!" exclaimed both the girls.
"That settles it. We haven't any ice, or we could have some lemonade. We'd better have chocolate. What do you say?"
"It would be very nice, but we have no fire."
"Fire enough. See here." He turned on the gas, and lighted a little stove over which the chocolate was made, condensed milk being at hand for use.
"Now, let me see. I've some ginger-snaps somewhere, and some marmalade. This is rather a mixed meal, I am thinking, but it will keep us from starving."
"I should think so," said Florence, surveying the table. "I think it is fine."
"And we can wash the dishes afterward. Will you let us?" asked Dimple.
"I shall be charmed to have you," Mr. Atkinson assured her. "It was one of the points upon which I felt uncertain. I confess to disliking, very much, that part of the business; and now you relieve my anxiety."