The children besought him to come, too.
“It will be just a common picnic, if you don’t,” Pauline said, looking disparagingly round her family party.
Hugh promised to divide his time equally between his two sets of guests.
“Let the boys bring your basket down with the other things, Miss Bibby,” he said, seeking to relieve her of a tiny basket she carried, “then you will have your hands free when you come to the ladder.”
“Thank you, it is very light, I can manage it quite well,” said Miss Bibby, holding fast to the handle.
“It’s her lunch,” volunteered the ever ready Muffie, “she doesn’t eat things like you’ve got. But we do,—and we’re getting hungry now, aren’t we, Paul?”
“Rather!” said Paul. “Can we begin to set the tables as soon as we get down?”
Hugh looked disappointedly at the miserable little basket.
“Won’t you even make a feast and be merry to-day?” he said.
[p246]
Miss Bibby glanced away from the kindly eyes. How could they look so clear and merry when he had stolen the work of her brain?