"Roy says," Sammy began, and stopped; for Roy was making forcible objections to the disclosure.
"Well, what does Roy say?" Miss Ruth asked, knowing nothing of the kicks administered under the table.
"He won't let me tell," said Sammy.
"He's always telling what I say," said Roy. "Why don't he speak for himself?"
"Well, I never!" said Sammy. "I thought you was too bashful to speak, and so I'd do it for you."
"What was it, Roy?"
"Why, I said, when I owned a horse, if he should happen to shy, you know, I'd cure him of it just as that minister cured Peter."
Here there was a pushing back of chairs and a stir and commotion, for the last stitch was set to the quilting. Then the binding was put on, and the quilt was finished; but the September afternoon was finished too, and Lovina Tibbs lighted the lamps in the dining-room before she rang the bell for tea.
Lovina had exerted herself in her special department to make this last meeting of the Society a festive occasion. She gave to the visitors what she called "a company supper"—biscuits deliciously sweet and light, cold chicken, plum-preserves, sponge-cake, and for a central dish a platter containing little frosted cakes, with the letters "P.Q.S." traced on each in red sugar-sand.
When the feast was over, one last-admiring look given to "our quilt" and the girls and boys had all gone home, Susie and Mollie sat with their mother in Miss Ruth's room.