“It sounds first-rate,” Betty declared warmly.
“It’s a beaut, I can tell you—that is, it ought to be. I haven’t tried it yet. It takes a lot of things and some time, so I’m leaving it for Saturday.”
“It sounds so attractive that I should think Mr. Meadowcroft might enjoy it. You might do it for him when he gets back,” Betty suggested, to Tommy’s unbounded delight. But before he could reply, she uttered a startled exclamation.
“What is it?” he asked anxiously. “Do you mean you saw a light?”
“Yes—I guess Aunt Sarah didn’t go to the sewing-circle. Like as not they didn’t have one,” she said in a scared voice. “I’m sure I don’t know what she’ll say.”
“Where’s the light now?” Tommy demanded. And truly, the house was dark.
“I saw that light, too, but it was a flash,” he said. “It was a lantern going by the further kitchen window and showing through in front. Someone’s going cross-lots over to Thorns’—old man Martin probably.”
Betty breathed a deep sigh of relief. “You are certainly a wizard, Tommy,” she declared.
Tommy’s usual boastfulness was not forthcoming. As he stood within the little porch made by the storm door while Betty took off her overshoes, he remarked casually that Mr. Appleton had looked pretty seedy that day.
“O, I didn’t notice!” cried Betty contritely. “I am so sorry! Do you mean his cold seems worse?”