Ben whipped off his cap and stood bareheaded, looking up into Ruth Warren’s face. Something friendly in her eyes made him say: “You look as if you liked boys, Black Lace Lady.”
“I do like boys, Ben,” said Miss Ruth; and from that moment she and Ben were friends.
Ben, while she spoke, had been pulling Alice by the hand. “Come on, Peggy,” he cried now.
But Alice hung back long enough to call out: “Ben always has names for people. Good-bye!” Then the twins ran off together, hand in hand.
At half-past five Elsa Danforth sat at a side-table in the dining-room bay-window eating her bread-and-milk supper out of a gold-lined silver porringer. The soft light from the great, glowing chandelier in the dining-room fell upon the beautiful flowering plants and upon the little black-gowned figure sitting there among them, all alone. Elsa had begged the maid to leave the shades up,—it grew dark early these short November days,—and she glanced out every now and then through the twilight at the Warren house with happy thoughts in her heart. She almost felt as if she had company, for the house was so near and Miss Ruth had been so kind that afternoon.
Mrs. Danforth, the tall, stately lady whom Elsa called “grandmother”—never “grandmamma”—dined at half-past six, for, notwithstanding the solitude of her life since her husband, Judge Danforth, had died and she had come to live in this suburban town of Berkeley, she chose to keep up the formal New York way of living. She had late breakfasts always, so that when Elsa was attending school, the only times the two saw one another for more than a few moments were at luncheon, in the evening after Mrs. Danforth’s dinner was over and before Elsa’s bedtime, and on Sunday.
Elsa often felt very lonely, especially eating by herself. But she never complained; she never thought herself very large or important, and she was quite used to obeying her grandmother. Uncle Ned had said for her to do exactly as her grandmother wanted her to do; and if Uncle Ned had said this, it must be all right.
“Who are the children in your Club, Elsa, beside Elizabeth White?” asked Mrs. Danforth that evening. She and Elsa were sitting in the luxurious library. The chairs were upholstered in dark green velvet, the books on the tables and in the bookcases had rich bindings. Out of the library opened a long drawing-room furnished in cream colour and gold, and having beautiful inlaid cabinets full of treasures.
Mrs. Danforth was a handsome woman, very erect, with a broad white forehead, gray hair, heavy dark eyebrows, and keen blue eyes. She was dressed in a corded black silk, richly trimmed with lace and jet.
Elsa looked up from her book and answered: “The other member of the Club is Alice, and maybe her brother Ben is coming sometimes, grandmother.”