“That was the night I had my precious little air-meter right under this chimney,” said Mr. Sanders very slowly, “and if water had trickled through the floor, down onto that, it would have been ruined.”
“Then, just as Ted says,” Nancy spoke, “Nero really did save it, for there was a regular flood around this hearth.”
“You must have seen me leaving the grounds that afternoon,” Mr. Sanders admitted. “I was sure you did, but I wasn’t ready to tell my story—just then. But Ted, I’ll have to get you a fine collar for Nero—”
The girls were begging Nancy to make an announcement.
“Go on,” urged Ruth. “They’re all talking together and no one will listen unless you get up on the step.”
With this and considerable more urging, Nancy finally mounted the step. She smiled shyly at her mother as she passed along, for Mrs. Brandon, like the other “principals,” was having a busy time of it.
“I just want to say,” Nancy began with a little quaver in her voice, “that we’ve prepared some little cakes and punch as samples of our cooking class work, and we’ll be glad to have you all stay and try them.”
There was real applause at this, and mentioning the cooking class—was a signal for another outburst of comment from the ladies. They all believed in girls doing something during summer, and they did not believe in girls “wasting” an entire vacation.
“I think we ought to give a cheer for the girls,” Mr. Sanders proposed. “They have kept things going pretty lively around here this summer, just lively enough to save me from having been discovered.”
“And I’d like to say a word,” ventured timid Miss Manners. But the girls would not permit her to do so, Nancy, especially being fearful that the little lady’s gratitude, for the domestic science class and for Mrs. Brandon’s hospitality might become embarrassing.