“Good night, Bil-lie——.”
And the next they knew it was morning! And such a glorious morning had never dawned before—of that they were sure.
Fat Deborah, nicknamed “Debbie,” who had been the cook in the Bradley family for years, and who thought that gave her the right to tell the whole family what was expected of them, from Billie up to Mr. Bradley himself, cooked them a breakfast of ham and eggs and cereal and toast and corn bread, grumbling to herself all the time.
For Debbie did not approve at all of “the young folks scamperin’ off jes’ so soon as dey gets back home agin.”
“Scand'lous, I calls it,” Debbie confided to the pan of corn bread she was busily cutting into golden brown pieces. “Don' know what Miz Bradley 'lows she’s thinkin’ on, nohow. But these am scand'lous days—they sho is.” Whereupon she put on a white apron and her dignity and marched into the dining room.
Yet in spite of her disapproval, Debbie gave the young “scalawags” the best breakfast she could make, and from the way the young “scalawags” did justice to it, one might have thought they did not expect to get any more to eat for a week at least.
Then they went upstairs to pack bags with the last minute things. Billie and Connie went over the whole list backward to be sure they had not forgotten a toothbrush “or something.” To them it was a very important list.
And when everything was done and their hats and coats on, they found to their dismay that they still had three-quarters of an hour to wait for the train.
“Goodness, why did Mother call us so early!” wailed Billie, sitting down on her suitcase and staring at Connie. “I can do anything but wait. But that I just can’t do!”
“Couldn’t we go over and call for Laura and Vi?” Connie suggested.