“Come in, please. Mother isn’t here, but she’ll be back soon, and——”
Ted looked down at his knickerbockers and discovered a chunk of dough clinging to one knee. He reached down, hoping to get it off before Mrs. Keller saw it. But as she was coming into the hall she noticed it and asked:
“What’s that?”
“Oh—er—now that—that’s—pie dough!” and Ted, in desperation, blurted out the words.
“Pie dough?” repeated Mrs. Keller.
“Yes,” explained the boy. “You see my sister was making a pie—and my hand slipped and—now—the pie spilled on the floor. It’s on the floor now—it hasn’t been baked yet—I mean the pie hasn’t,” Ted added, as he finally got the lump of dough off his knee and began rolling it between his fingers.
“Oh, that’s too bad!” exclaimed Mrs. Keller. “I suppose you were helping your sister make the pie, to surprise your mother when she comes home. That was very nice of you, I’m sure. But perhaps——”
Ted was an honest little boy. He did not want Mrs. Keller to think that he was trying to help Janet when he wasn’t. So he made haste to say:
“No’m, I wasn’t just exactly helping Janet. She was making the pie all by herself, and I came in and I was going to put some of the sliced apples in the bowl of dough and—and—well, the pie got spilled—that’s all I know.”
Mrs. Keller smiled at Teddy. I think she understood just what had happened, for she said: