“Mammy's a-goin' to let us know,” he whispered in reply. “We must keep on a little longer.”
“Don't stop,” said Joel, lifting his head where he sat on the floor. “What you whisperin' for, Polly?”
“I'm not,” said Polly, glad to think she hadn't spoken.
“Well, do go on, Ben,” said Joel, lying down again.
“Polly'll have to finish it,” said Ben; “I've got to go upstairs now.”
So Polly launched out into such an extravagant story that they all, perforce, had to listen.
All this time Mrs. Pepper had been pretty busy in her way. And now she came into the kitchen and set down her candle on the table. “Children,” she said. Everybody turned and looked at her—her tone was so strange; and when they saw her dark eyes shining with such a new light, little Davie skipped right out into the middle of the room. “What's the matter, mammy?”
“You may all come into the Provision Room,” said she.
“What for?” shouted Joel, in amazement; while the others jumped to their feet, and stood staring.
Polly flew around like a general, arranging her forces. “Let's march there,” said she; “Phronsie, you take hold of Davie's hand, and go first.”