“No,” said Fannie, stepping up to her side; “but after all what harm can there be?”
“And the girls will be so awfully put out about not getting the candy,” said Bell, going one step higher.
“Come along in,” said Fannie, with sudden decision, grasping Bell’s hand and drawing her in the door. “It’s all right. Nobody need ever know we came here if we don’t choose to tell.”
Their easily quieted scruples were all forgotten when they saw the enticing supply of confectionery seductively displayed under glass covers. There was no such trouble in selecting here as there had been in buying ribbons, for there were chocolate creams, maple caramels, and candied cherries among the extensive variety, and those were the things that all the girls longed for more than any other sweets.
It was delightful to feel that they were preparing a pleasant surprise for their friends, who never dreamed of having any thing more luscious than the lemon sticks, peppermint balls, and “sat-upon” cocoanut cakes of a pallid white or dangerous red which Mr. Williams, true to the traditions of his far-away childhood, considered the proper stock of confectionery.
The saleswoman was a little indifferent and slow, and so engrossed with a conversation of deep interest she was maintaining with the other clerk that it was hard to get her attention; and then she lingered so over tying up the packages that the girls grew very impatient, for a sharp whistle told them that a train was coming. The young woman tried to hurry then, but she had tied up the creams in too thin paper, and they burst their bonds and flew over the counter and floor. She seemed ashamed of her awkwardness then, and weighed out another half-pound and put them into a paper bag of firmer constitution, delivering them over to the girls just as the train stopped and quite a little crowd of passengers rushed up to the lunch-counter. In the hurry of serving coffee and glasses of milk which were wanted instantly, the woman could not stop to make change for the girls. Bell had handed her a two-dollar bill, from which she was to deduct eighty-five cents for the candy. Clearly it would not do to give up one dollar and fifteen cents, particularly as the money was not their own, so there was nothing else to do but to keep their places and wait till the greedy travelers could spare the clerk long enough to get their change. They deplored their folly then in having given Miss Smith all their silver and small change and left themselves with only the bill; but it was too late to mourn for that now, and they stood impatiently at the end of the counter, wondering how even the fear of being left behind by the train could give men the courage to pour boiling hot coffee down their throats.
At last a lull came, the clamorous travelers were supplied, and the girls’ change was handed them and they hurried off toward the milliner’s, greatly fearing that Miss Blake would have come back and would demand an explanation. They passed a showily dressed young man with a traveling-bag, who did not look quite like a gentleman, but were so occupied with their own uneasiness that they did not notice that he quickened his tardy steps soon after they passed him, till, with a very low bow, he stopped them, just before the road turned to go up the hill, and asked if they would kindly direct him to the village.
“Why, you can’t miss it,” said Fanny, rather startled at being addressed by a stranger; “there’s just this one road and no other.”
“If the ladies are going to the town and do not object I will walk with them so I can be sure of going right,” said the man.
The girls were uncomfortable, but did not know what they ought to do; so they walked on without speaking.