“Good night, ma’am; thank you and the young lady most kindly,” Jenny answered.
“I hope the children will like their basket,” Blue Bonnet said. “It wouldn’t be the least interesting, being that kind of poor,” she remarked a few moments later, as the horses trotted briskly off in the direction of home and supper. “That would be the difficulty, I suppose; one couldn’t choose one’s kind.” She was not very talkative during the rest of the drive; she was trying to picture to herself the unpacking of the basket—the children’s eager little faces.
“Grandmother,” she said, as they were nearing home, “I’m going to start a ‘mercy box,’ like Sarah has; I’ll take that china bank—you know, the little red and white house on the bracket in my room?—and I’ll put in something every week. Then if I do get low in funds, myself, I’ll have something on hand for—other things.”
“I think that would be an excellent idea, Blue Bonnet,” Mrs. Clyde answered.
Then the carriage turned into the drive, and Solomon was leaping and barking about it; the lights indoors were throwing long shadows out across the lawn, and on the steps, Uncle Cliff was waiting to welcome them.
“We’ve had a beautiful time, haven’t we, Grandmother?” Blue Bonnet said. “It’s been every bit as nice as I thought it would be.”
“I am glad you have enjoyed it, dear,” Mrs. Clyde responded; “I am sure I have.”
“My, but I am hungry!” Blue Bonnet slipped an arm through her uncle’s as they went indoors. “Do you suppose Katie has waffles for supper?”
Katie had made waffles, and after supper Blue Bonnet, having done her full duty by them, decided to pay a visit to the kitchen to tell her how nice they had been, and to compare to-morrow’s turkey with the one bought for the Pattersons.
Blue Bonnet and Katie were on excellent terms, and in Blue Bonnet’s opinion the big, comfortable kitchen, with its old-fashioned oak dresser and rows of shining tins, was one of the most delightful spots in the whole house.