“Land’s sakes alive! I haven’t done nothing for you yet!” The superintendent’s wife was busy with hot water and a teapot.
“Do you happen to have an extra car that we could borrow for a few hours?”
“Why, sure I have, my dear. But there’s no hurry about your leavin’, is there? A cup of tea, now, to warm you up and some of these nice crisp crullers I made yesterday? Then I’ll get you and Mr. Bolton some dry things to put on and after dinner you can take the car and ride home. How’ll that be?”
Dorothy laughed and shook her head. “You’re awfully kind, really, Mrs. Johnson, but we can’t stay. We’ve got an appointment that just can’t be broken.”
“But your wet clothes, Miss Dixon?”
“Thanks for your offer, but we aren’t so wet now. I will have a cup of tea if I may, although we only finished breakfast a little while ago.”
“And don’t forget those crisp crullers,” protested Bill with a grin. “I certainly do love homemade crullers, ma’am.”
“An’ dey ain’t nuffin’ better ’an de ones Miz Johnson makes,” chuckled Uncle Abe. “I’se tasted ’em befo’ an’ dis hyar nigger knows!”
Mrs. Johnson beamed delightedly.
“Even if I do say so who shouldn’t,” she remarked modestly, “this batch came out pretty good. But are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay for Sunday dinner? We’re having fish chowder, chicken friccassee, with dumplin’s, and a pumpkin pie!”