Rebecca Mary had never felt less hungry in her life but she obediently ran down. She thought she wouldn't eat a mouthful until she saw the array of good things which Ben had prepared when she suddenly discovered that she was hungry. Nothing would be gained by starving herself, she thought, as she patted Joan's shoulder.
"We shall serve ourselves," she told Ben. "And will you please go over to the shop and ask Mr. Cabot if I may speak to him at once?"
"Ah dunno as Ah dares. Old Mr. Simmons said he didn't want ter see any one 'thin gunshot ob dat shop ter night. Maybe Ah could stand away an' holler," he suggested helpfully.
"Never mind then." Rebecca Mary spoke as carelessly as she could. "Perhaps he'll be up before long."
"If you ast me Ah'd say they won't be along 'fo' sunrise. Ah'm to take 'em another meal at midnight. That 'speriment suah makes 'em hungry."
"You can tell Mr. Cabot then that I should like to speak to him at once." Midnight was better than nothing, than morning.
"Yas'm. Maybe Ah can. Ah can try."
"Do you want to tell we why you want to talk to Mr. Cabot?" asked Joan curiously. "You haven't talked to me very much since we came to dinner."
"I think I must be tired. Suppose you talk to me? What did Mrs. Erickson say when you took the kitten back?" It was a safe question for Mrs. Erickson was sure to say considerable. Joan repeated Mrs. Erickson's words and added enough of her own to last through dinner. She caught Rebecca Mary's hand as they rose from the table.
"Shall we go and play ball, Miss Wyman? I have a new tennis ball I borrowed from Mr. Marshall."