And just as Mrs. Williams patted down the last sandwich, Mrs. Lynch, with a shaking hand, closed the door and, turning, faced Dale and Robin.
"Well, of all the ungrateful creatures!" cried Beryl, who had taken in the little scene from the kitchen door.
"Now don't you be a-caring, girlie dear," begged Mrs. Lynch, frightened at Robin's stricken face.
Robin turned her glance around the deserted room as though she simply could not believe her eyes. It must surely be an awful dream from which she would awaken. Mrs. Lynch went on, speaking quickly as though to keep back her own tears of disappointment. "It's a grand time the kiddies had this day, bless the little hearts of them, and a loving you like you were some bit of a fairy—the impudence of them—"
"Who are the Rileys?" demanded Robin, sternly—for she had to know; the Rileys had spoiled her beautiful plans.
"Now don't you be a-bothering your bright head with the Rileys or anyone else—"
Dale interrupted his mother. On his face still lingered the dark flush that had crept up over it at the black-eyed girl's taunt.
"I don't know why Miss Forsyth shouldn't know the reason the Mill people didn't come tonight. There's a big protest meeting about the Rileys—it wasn't gotten up until five o'clock or I'd have told you. Tim Riley's been laid up for six months and he's just back on half-time and can't ever do any better, I guess—and he's been ordered out of his house which means—up the river—"
"Up—where Granny Castle lives?" broke in Robin, in a queer voice.
"Yes. And it's hard on Tim's wife and her children—they're just little things. And he can't go anywhere else, now. It seems Tim's wife went herself to Norris and begged for a little time until she heard from an uncle up in Canada or found some way of earning extra money herself, and Norris wouldn't give in for one day. The men are all pretty sore and they called this meeting—"