“I feel sorry for that old woman,” said Amy, absently staring at some filmy embroidered handkerchiefs. “It must be pretty bad to be old and friendless——”
“Well, I don’t see much use in our worrying about it,” said Mollie, briskly.
“There’s Grace with the centerpiece under her arm,” chuckled Betty. “Wonder how she did it.”
“By pretty near breaking herself I suppose,” said Mollie, adding ruefully: “What do you bet we have to treat her to lunch?”
But both Amy and Betty were too wise to bet on anything so sure to go against them, and in this way they proved their shrewdness. Once outside the store Grace confessed, not at all shamefacedly, that after buying the centerpiece the entire extent of her resources was twenty-five cents.
“That,” said Betty, with a twinkle, “will just about buy you one sandwich.”
“Have a heart,” protested Grace. “The way I feel one sandwich would just about whet my appetite.”
“Well, girls, I suppose we can’t see her starve,” sighed Betty, as they entered the tempting little tea shop, all white tables and blue walls.
“A blight on our soft hearts,” murmured Mollie, at which Betty and Amy giggled and Grace smiled sweetly. And the way she ordered from the delectable dishes on the menu, one might have been excused for thinking that Grace herself was treating to the luncheon.
“All right,” grumbled Mollie, as she prepared to cut into her chicken patty. “You just wait, Grace Ford. Next time we come here all of us girls are accidentally going to forget our pocketbooks. That ought to fix you.”