The laughter that went up at this sally drew the attention of many sitting near to that table. Bess Harley’s eyes filled with angry tears. She saw that the red-haired girl had set a trap for her, and she had walked right into it.
Bess really had feared she would not have supper enough. Having refused to eat out of the lunch box on the train, her appetite had now begun unmistakably to manifest itself. If the usual supper served the pupils of Lakeview Hall was as scanty as Laura Polk had intimated, the remains of the lunch Bess’ mother had bought for the two chums in Chicago would be very welcome indeed.
A glance around the table, however, soon assured even unobservant Bess that the red-haired girl was letting her tongue run idly when she criticised the food served. There were heaps of bread and biscuit, plenty of golden butter, and a pitcher of milk that had not been twice skimmed, beside each plate. Besides, there were apple sauce and sliced peaches and cold meat in abundance. The supper was plain, but plentiful enough, considering that Dr. Prescott believed in giving her girls their hearty meal at noon.
Nan had at once suspected that Laura Polk was joking. But, even she had not appreciated the fact that the red-haired girl was deliberately laying a trap for them until the subject of the lunch box was brought up. Nan whispered quickly to Bess:
“Laugh! laugh! Laugh with them, instead of letting them laugh at you!”
But Bess could not do that. She was very angry. And as soon as these fun-loving girls saw she had lost her temper, they kept the joke up.
Bess angrily allowed the lunch box to fall to the floor under the table. But, as the meal progressed, gradually almost every dish on the table gravitated toward Bess’ plate.
“Want any more of your apple sauce, Cora?” the question would be raised, quite gravely. “No? Well do pass it this way, we’re hungry over here,” and the half-eaten apple sauce would appear at Bess Harley’s elbow.
Her plate was soon ringed about with pitchers of milk, half-empty butter plates, broken biscuits, dabs of peaches and apple sauce in lonely-looking saucers. Nan was almost choked with a desire to laugh; and yet she was sorry for her chum, too. If Bess had only been able to take the joke in good part!
“Don’t show that you are so disturbed by their fun,” begged Nan of her friend.