“O, goody!” exclaimed Betty, while Elsa and Alice clapped their hands, and Ben turned a somersault on the hearth-rug.
“Now please finish the story, Miss Ruth,” said Betty. “You left off where Ruth’s grandmother—I mean your grandmother—was going to let you go to see the little old lady the next morning.”
Betty, Alice, and Elsa immediately drew their chairs up to the table, and chose their paint-brushes, ready to begin on the paper dolls. But Ben remained standing before the fireplace, and, after putting one hand in his pocket to make sure he had not lost the two silver quarter dollars he had earned that morning, he clasped his hands behind him. Ben was dreadfully hungry, for he had been outdoors all the morning, and even the good dinner he had eaten since then had left his appetite unsatisfied. He forgot that Miss Ruth always had something for the Club to eat, so he looked very steadily at her and asked frankly: “Please, Black Lace Lady, have you got any crackers or cookies? I’m hungry as two bears, and I’d a good deal rather ask right out for something to eat than hint for it.”
“Why, Ben Holt!” gasped Alice, whose cheeks turned a very deep pink in a moment. She came and laid her chubby hand on Ruth Warren’s arm: “Excuse him, please, Miss Ruth. He knows better.” Alice felt dreadfully ashamed of Ben.
Ruth Warren stroked Alice’s hand affectionately: “Never mind, dear. I ought to know better than to keep a hungry boy waiting for something to eat. Sarah has made some plum buns for you.”
“The same as we had for our first meeting!” cried Betty, tossing her hair out of her eyes.
“Yes, because Peggy brought some to me,” Ben said. “Here they are now,” he exclaimed, looking up engagingly into Sarah Judd’s face as she came through the library doorway, in her stiffest starched white apron, carrying a very large plate piled high with crisp plum buns.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Ben said with a polite bow. Stepping forward, he took the plate from Sarah, and passed it first to Miss Ruth, then to the girls.
Sarah stood still, watching anxiously. “They are pretty crumby,” she said, looking from the plate to the floor, “and—” but as she caught Miss Ruth’s eye, she stopped; then, drawing a long breath like a sigh, she said heroically: “Never mind the crumbs, little folks; I’m a-goin’ to sweep to-morrow.”
“I think you are very, very good to the Club, Sarah,” said Betty.