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[p259]
CHAPTER XXIV
AT THE SECOND FALL
Miss Bibby had prepared a delightful meal for her charges from the generous hamper the caddies carried down to her. Slices of chicken lay in nests of finely shredded lettuce with a delicate cream dressing lightly poured on top. A mountain of ruddy strawberries formed a centrepiece,—delicious and novel cakes made side dishes, jellies quivered and reflected on their sides the foaming waterfall. While here, there and everywhere were scattered evidences of the high skill chocolate manufacturers are attaining to—hatchets, saws, garden rakes, dolls’ tea-sets, animals of every description—all in the most delightful kind of chocolate.
The children buzzed round the tables like eager flies, but Miss Bibby would not have them begin until their host had paid the visit he had promised.
“But I may as well get mine over,” she said, “and then I can help all of you. And [p260] it would be too depressing for you, wouldn’t it, Paul, to see me eating what you think my poor meal while you revel in all these delicacies?” She got out her tiny basket and hastily emptied the contents of one of the packets on to a plate.
“Dear, darling Miss Bibby,” implored Lynn, clinging suddenly to her, “do eat something nice, just to-day. Oh do, do throw your horrid basket away, and eat really truly food for once.”
“I can’t, darling—I really can’t,” said Miss Bibby, quite distressed at having to refuse such a lovingly-put plea; “some other day,—next time you have a picnic. But not to-day.” She almost said “Not his food.”
“Here he comes, here he comes,” shrieked the children.
“Can I begin—can I have a lawberry?” cried Max, fairly dancing in his impatience.