"Perhaps so," said the old lady, grimly. "But it wouldn't have been a bad idea if it had happened earlier, I'm thinking."
"But just think, if it hadn't gone to them just when it did," continued the young minister, determined to have the benefaction receive its full measure of appreciation. "Why, that poor mother was hurrying down to tell the selectman she could do nothing more,—the children were starving, and he must take them to the poorhouse,—when she met John Bramble, the expressman, you know, with the box in his cart."
Madam Van Ruypen laid down her fork and made a violent effort to get her handkerchief out of the velvet and jet bag that dangled from her waist. As for Polly and the others, they never thought of eating, but listened, with their eyes fastened on the young minister's face.
"I never supposed it was as bad as that," said the old lady, brokenly; at last, with her fingers on her handkerchief, beginning to feel a little bit better.
"Nor did any of us," said Mr. St. John. "Why, John Bramble hasn't got over it yet. And I don't know that he ever will. Well, the misery is over now, thanks to you."
"All the thanks necessary to be expressed," said Madam Van Ruypen, quite recovering herself and laying a hand on Ben's arm, to pull him forward into notice, "are due to this lad here."
Ben slunk back covered with confusion, and wished for nothing quite so much as to roll under the table quite out of sight. Seeing which Jasper spoke up: "Oh, it would be fine to have them go to school, wouldn't it?" and diverted attention so that it gave Ben time to breathe freely once more.
"Yes, indeed," said the minister; "it would be the making of them. And then that would give you a chance to have Luke and Matilda and Jane come down for a visit, maybe," and he laughed—he couldn't help it—at the face before him.
"I think not," said the old lady, dryly. "At least for a spell, until I get a little rested from Elvira," and then they all laughed. But the main thing was settled: the mountain children were to go to school.
Ben could hardly believe his ears; and he forgot to eat his dinner, while he gazed across the room where Matthew and Mark were placidly engaged at that pleasing occupation at a table with Joel and a whole company of other boys. Matthew had finally been induced to have his red tippet taken off, but insisted on keeping it across the back of his chair, where in the intervals of the dinner he could now and then feel of it. "Oh!" Ben gave a long sigh of satisfaction.