"You are a wise woman, mother," said Fred. "You have guessed what I was longing for."
"Let me help you, Mrs. Fenton," said Ruth, already looking more cheerful.
"Then you may toast the bread," said Mrs. Fenton. "I don't dare to trust Fred. I did once to my sorrow, and the toast turned out to be as black as my shoe."
"I can promise to do better than that. I have plenty of experience."
She set herself to the task, as if she felt quite at home, and soon they were able to sit down to a plain but welcome supper.
"Do you know, mother," said Fred, between mouthfuls, "Luella Ferguson was on the train."
"How did you recognize her? Did she speak to you?"
Fred smiled roguishly.
"She did. Shall I tell you what she said?"
"I should be glad to hear it."