Mr. DeVere did negotiate some small loans, but not enough to afford permanent relief. Perhaps motherly Mrs. Dalwood suspected, or Russ may have hinted at their neighbors' straits, for many a nourishing dish was sent to Ruth and Alice, on the plea that there was more of it than Mrs. Dalwood and her sons could eat.
There were more invitations from the Dalwoods to dinner or supper, but Mr. DeVere was proud, and declined, though in the most delightfully polite way.
"I—I don't see how he can refuse, when he knows we are really hungry!" sighed Alice.
"You wouldn't want him to be a beggar; would you?" flashed Ruth.
"No. But it's awfully hard; isn't it?"
"It is. Too bad they don't pay for rehearsals. And there'll be another full week! Oh, Alice, I wish there was something we could do to earn money!"
"So do I! But what is there?"
"I don't know. Oh, dear!"
They sat in the gloaming—silent, waiting for their father to come home.
"There's his step!" exclaimed Ruth, jumping up.