“Yes, thanks.”
“Thee has a fine view over the hills,” Mr. Benjamin said.
Then the other girls trooped in, and Isabelle was introduced to them. A servant announced supper. Mr. Benjamin gave his arm to Mrs. Benjamin, and they led the way, followed by the girls, two by two, arm in arm, across the hall to the dining room. There was an unexpected moment for Isabelle when everybody bowed the head and offered silent grace. The supper was plain, but how those girls did eat! Cold meats, baked potatoes and apple sauce, and cookies disappeared in quantities. Even the rice pudding had to be served twice all round.
There was talk and laughter. No sense of disorder or noise, but it was just jolly. Mr. Benjamin at one end of the long table beamed at Mrs. Benjamin at the other end. They both played a part in the sprightly give-and-take of the children. It was like a happy family. Isabelle was silent, taking note of everything. Peggy was sullen.
After supper there was a rush for sweaters.
“Get your coat, Isabelle, and come out. We’re going to have a bonfire to-night. No lessons until to-morrow,” shouted a girl named Agnes.
Isabelle started up to get her coat, but on second thoughts she went back for Peggy.
“Oh, I can’t do those things, I tell you. I’m too delicate,” whined the girl.
“It won’t hurt thee at all, my dear, if thee wraps up well,” said Mrs. Benjamin.
“I’m never allowed out in the night air——”