“Just think of the Lookout this very minute!”
“Well—all is, I can’t keep up with you,” Lizette dropped unconsciously into one of her country phrasings. “I can’t help getting into the doleful dumps sometimes, and I can’t—I just can’t be happy and contented with the mercury at ninety-three. I guess it’s easier for some folks to stand the heat than it is for others.”
“I think it is,” Olga admitted. “Give me your hat. Now take that fan and sit there by the window till I come back. I’m not so tired as you are, and I must get something for our supper.”
While she was gone Lizette sat thinking of the Camp with its shady woods and blue water and wishing herself back there. She had had three weeks there, but a hateful little imp was whispering in her ear that some of the girls were staying four or five weeks, and it wasn’t fair—it wasn’t fair! Of course it was better to earn her living doing embroidery than in Goldstein’s store, but still, some girls didn’t have to earn their living at all, and——
The door opened and Olga came breezily in, her hands full of bundles. “I really ought to have taken a basket,” she said. “There’s the nicest little home bakery opened just around the corner—I got bread there.”
“I’m not a bit hungry,” Lizette said listlessly, then started up, crying out, “Well, I am ashamed of myself! I meant to have the table set when you came back, and I forgot all about it.”
“Never mind—I’ll have it ready in a minute. Sit still, Lizette.”
But Lizette insisted upon helping, and her face brightened as Olga set forth fresh bread, nut cakes, ice cold milk, and a dish of sliced peaches.
“Weren’t you mistaken?” Olga asked with a laugh. “Aren’t you a little bit hungry?”