This matter settled in her own mind, Hattie let down her gloriously-beautiful hair, arranged her simple toilet daintily, and went down stairs to supper at the very moment the bell rang.
“Wonder on wonders! What will happen next!” was what Wild Kate said as she filed with the rest into the room.
There was an extra lamp over the center of the long table, and the increased light shown on a row of plates of cold tongue, sliced ham, cheese, and three large, real sweet cakes, equally distant on the table.
Such extravagance could not be remembered by Miss Scrimp’s oldest boarder.
And Little Jess was assisted by Biddy Lanigan herself in passing around full cups—not of hot water, but of real nice tea, with white sugar and good milk.
“Miss Scrimp, you’re just the dearest old maid that ever refused a good offer!” cried Wild Kate, impulsively. “And you’re not old either. You are twenty years younger to-night than you were last night when I was saucing you, like the bad girl that I am.”
“We’ll let bygones be bygones, Miss Kate. Take hold—you’ll find no hairs in your butter to-night!” said Miss Scrimp, quite graciously for her.
“If I did I wouldn’t be so mean as to tell of it!” said Kate, as she took two slices of cold ham to herself. “Girls, if this thing keeps on I’m one to put down a dollar toward buying Miss Scrimp a new silk dress!”
“And I will double it if we buy good nice dresses for Biddy Lanigan and good Little Jessie!” said Hattie, quietly, but distinctly from her chair near the head of the table.
“Glory to her soul! I knew Miss Hattie wouldn’t forget me!” cried Biddy, and she put a strong cup of tea each side of her plate to show her gratitude.