“We’ll ask,” said Nan. “This will do to begin with.”
The stuff was arranged in the most elaborate manner and carried solemnly to the living-room where it was set grandly forth to the amusement of those who had gathered there.
“Did you ever see such a poverty-stricken array?” laughed Miss Lloyd. “Couldn’t you do better than that, girls?”
“Why, there surely is variety enough,” said Nan in pretended surprise, “and the things were all very good—when they were fresh. Dr. Woods, allow me to press a few grapes upon you; they are only a week old.”
“Don’t press them on him, Nan,” cried Jo. “You might stain his nice white flannel coat.”
“Then I will press a lozenge on him,” said Nan, laying one on the doctor’s sleeve and firmly bearing her thumb down upon it.
“It really does put us to shame,” insisted Miss Lloyd. “Nan, I do think we could manage something better.”
“Oh, please, Miss Lloyd, we don’t want better. We never before had such a fine opportunity of disposing of left-overs.”
“But, my dear, the stuff isn’t fit to eat.”
“Oh, never mind; it isn’t really indigestible, though we could make fudge or something if you have the ingredients.”