“The first thing is to eat your dinner,” he said, smiling and pinching her cheek, then stooping to give her a hearty kiss.
“Yes, sir; I feel ready to do it justice,” she returned, putting her hand into his, that he might lead her to the table.
“I too,” said Max, following them, “I don’t know when I’ve been so hungry.”
The captain had asked the blessing, and Marian began passing the plate of bread, when a voice, apparently that of a boy speaking from the garden, said, “Please, Miss, gimme a piece. I’m awful hungry! Didn’t have a mouthful o’ anything to eat to-day.”
Marian started in surprise, then went toward the window, saying, “A beggar. We don’t often have them about here. Why,” glancing out, “where is he?”
A loud barking, that seemed to come from round the corner of the house, then a shrill cry, “Oh, oh, call him off! he’s got me by the leg! he—he’ll tear me to pieces!”
“Towser, Towser!” called Marian, putting her head out of the window, “let him go, I tell you! Come here, sir! come here, and let that fellow alone!”
Then she rushed out to the porch to look for the boy and dog, but was back again in a moment all breathless with bewilderment and exertion.
“I can’t find either of them,” she panted, “and where they could go so quickly I canna conjecture.”
Lulu was casting mirthful glances at Max, but he avoided her eye and went on with his dinner as if much too hungry to think of anything else.