“Sit right up to supper, Jonas, and you, too, Mr. Gray,” said Mrs. Webb.
Philip was by no means loath, for the dishes which he saw on the table had had the effect of stimulating his appetite, already sharpened by his long walk and long fast.
Philip, as the guest, was first helped to a bountiful supply of cold meat, a hot biscuit, and some golden butter, not to mention two kinds of preserves, for the Webbs always lived well. He was not slow in doing justice to the good supper spread before him. He was almost afraid to eat as much as he wanted, lest his appetite should attract attention, and, therefore, was pleased to see that Jonas quite kept pace with him.
Indeed, when he had already eaten as much as he dared, Mrs. Webb said, hospitably:
“I am afraid, Mr. Gray, you won’t make out a supper.”
“I don’t think there is any danger of that,” said Philip, smiling. “I have enjoyed my supper very much.”
The young woman looked gratified by this tribute to her cooking, and just then Abner came in.
“Did you see the boys, Abner?” asked Jonas.
“Yes, I saw them all. They were awfully glad we could have the dance, after all. You see, we’ve been lookin’ forward to it, and didn’t like to be disappointed. And now I must hurry down my supper, for I’ve got to slick up and go for Mary Ann Temple. Are you goin’, Lucy?”
“Of course she is,” answered Jonas. “I don’t have so far to go for my girl as you do,” he added slyly.