“Ladies,” said Austin, “we hurried here that we might have time to order a most beautiful tea for you. We have done our utmost. You see before you all the goodies you like best; and we have not even forgotten that Frances has a weakness for bread-and-butter.”
“Or that Florry adores chocolate-almonds.”
“We wished to show you,” said Austin, “that we bear no malice.”
“We wished,” said Max, “to heap coals of fire on your heads.”
The November day had drawn on to dusk before Frances could persuade herself and the others that it was time to start for home. The boys were despatched to fetch the pony-carriage, and requested to call on their way back for the biggest parcels, which would be awaiting them at the drapers’ shops. Frances and Florry summoned a smiling waitress, and asked her to fill some bags with the numerous goodies left from the feast.
“For the boys are sure to be hungry again before we reach home,” said Frances. “Snow has been falling for the last hour; and we shall have to drive cautiously along the country lanes, they are so dark. And poor Rough is not properly shod for the snow yet.”
The girls, with their bags and parcels, were standing ready at the door of the confectioners, and looking out with amused and interested faces as the boys drove up.
“I say,” cried Max, “it’s a good thing we brought lots of rugs and wraps—we’re in for a storm.”
“Really a storm, Max?” inquired Frances, feeling that she ought to provide prudence for the party. “Do you think we shall get home all right with just Rough? Oughtn’t we to leave him here and hire a proper horse and carriage from the hotel?”