“Oh, Nan,” she cried joyfully, “I hoped I’d meet you before I did any one else. Come right over here under these trees. I’ve brought you something to eat.”
“Brought me something to eat?” cried Nan in astonishment. “Where did you get it?”
“At the village. There’s a right nice store there, you know.”
“At the village? Why that is three miles away. You don’t mean to say you have walked there and back, six miles? I should think you would be dead beat, this warm afternoon.”
Jack’s lip trembled. “It was right far,” she acknowledged, “but I knew I’d made you miss your dinner and I didn’t want you to have a headache; besides I wanted to punish myself.”
“You poor little midget,” exclaimed Nan, gathering the culprit to her and kissing the flushed cheek.
The tears sprang to Jack’s eyes, and she turned away saying, “I’m so glad you forgive me. Please eat something,” she added earnestly as she opened her packages to display a nondescript collection of stale cakes, hard candies and uncertain fruit.
Whatever Nan may have thought of the quality of the feast provided, she gave no sign, but did her best by it, and if Jo was surprised to see how small an appetite Nan had for her supper, there was no reason given for it then, but it was explained later and at the same time Jo and Daniella were begged not to tell the others of the morning’s misadventure.
So peace was restored. Jack had punished herself, and if tired in body, was at least serene in mind when she went to bed that night.
