“Yes, Miss Ruth,” replied Elsa; “I asked grandmother about it this noon, and she said if you thought it was all right, I might go any time.”
Miss Ruth turned next to Alice: “Does it suit you, Alice?”
Alice also was eager for the visit, so Miss Ruth decided that there could be no better time. The three girls were tired and fagged from their school, and fresh air would do them more good than staying indoors. The afternoon was sunshiny, the ground bare of snow, and outdoors looked very tempting. And it was, moreover, the day after Thanksgiving, when children do not always feel at their best.
“We will take a lunch with us,—unless you would rather have it now,” suggested Miss Ruth. As no one seemed to be hungry now, the lunch plan met with general favour.
“Excuse me then,” said Miss Ruth, “and I will have Sarah put something in a box for us.”
“And I will run home and get my thick coat,” said Betty, who had worn only a light jacket. “It may be cold coming back, and such a tender little plant as I am mustn’t take cold.” In fact, however, Betty wanted to tell her mother where she was going, as she did not have permission for this particular day, as Elsa had.
Sarah Judd sat in the tidy kitchen knitting a white stocking, her needles keeping time with her bobbing curls, her black cat on the table by her elbow. At Ruth Warren’s words: “I want a lunch for my little people, Sarah,” the woman snapped out: “I declare for it, I’m glad you are goin’ to do it yourself. I’m tired of waitin’ on a pack of children that make so many crumbs—”
“Now, Sarah, you know you like having the children come here,” interrupted Miss Ruth. “We are going for a walk to-day, as it happens. Is there bread enough for sandwiches?”
“Yes;” Sarah made her needles go very fast.
“And cookies enough for four children?”