“Look at that tray!”
“Did you ever?”
These exclamations, being all shouted at once, conveyed no intelligence, and the serene Millicent waved her scepter, which was a long stalk of goldenrod, and said:
“Minions and slaves, how dare you rush thus unannounced into the royal presence? And—where in the world have you been?”
Concerted explanation followed, and Marguerite protested so prettily that she would gladly have prepared breakfast if she had received the notice before she jumped out of the window that of course she was forgiven.
Timmy Loo had stationed himself before the table which held the tray of empty dishes, and sat up motionless, his fore paw extended in his very best beggarly manner.
“You precious poodle-puppy,” said Marjorie, catching him up. “You haven’t had a single speck to eat this day; and I think it’s a shame, so I do! Girls, we’re a high old cooking club; we’ve been here nearly twenty-four hours and we’ve had one meal! Now I call a conference of the powers, and let’s settle on some definite line of action, or we’ll have the agent from the Associated Charities down here giving us soup-tickets. Rosie, won’t you please take Tim down to the kitchen and give him some bread and milk? And the Blue Ribbon Cooking Club will please come to order.”
Marjorie had on her “presidential pose,” and when that was the case the girls always became rational and quit fooling.
But Hester broke in with her slow English drawl: “Miss President, I’ve a suggestion to make. With the exception of Helen and myself, who were breakfasting out, and the somewhat eccentric-looking lady in the red scarf and her fellow-conspirator, who breakfasted in their room, our members have had neither bit nor sup. I therefore propose that Helen and I be excused from the meeting, with the understanding that we will agree to any decisions the rest of you may come to, and that we go down and get breakfast for the crowd.”
This speech was received with enthusiastic clapping of hands and cries of “Good for you!” “Go ahead!”