"This is better than our old belt supper, Daddy, isn't it?" she said, with a flirt of her tangled curls. "Anyway—it smells nicer."
She was back at the sugar bag at once, digging out spoonfuls for Morrison's coffee.
"Thank you, Miss Cary, I am indeed obliged to you. Now do sit down and eat. No, not another word till you've eaten two whole biscuits!"
For several ecstatic moments the child munched her biscuits. It had been a long time since she had eaten anything so delicious, although if those same biscuits had appeared on the Cary table a month ago they would have probably been scorned. But eager as her appetite was it did not stop the active workings of her mind and she presently was struck by an idea which tried to force itself out through a mouthful of biscuit—with the usual amusing results.
"Virginia!" admonished her father.
Morrison laughed out like a boy and slapped his knee.
"Suppose we swallow—and try again."
Virgie, thus adjured, concentrated her mind on the task—gulped, blinked, swallowed with pathetically straining eyes, and then smiled triumphantly.
"Excuse me, Daddy. I guess I wasn't very polite."
"Apology accepted. What were you going to say?"