“It’s a pretend party,” Hazel tried to explain; but as she looked into Granny’s eyes she suddenly wanted to cry.
The little children stood quietly, waiting to be told what to do next.
Then Scipio stepped forward.
“Aunt Ellen,” he said in his slow way, “it’s like this; you’s been kind to we-all here. There’s many of us as you’s helped into the world like you did Mrs. Brown’s baby yesterday. We wants to do something for you, so we’s just come and we’s brought you some flowers.”
The five waiting children looked at Hazel. She nodded, and they stepped forward and each gave a bouquet to Granny.
The old woman’s face softened as Scipio spoke, and now she smiled kindly and asked the children in. As they entered she noticed that each one was decked out a little, and she glanced at her own dress and then at Hazel’s.
“She’s a smart one,” she thought.
“May we play a game, Granny?” Hazel asked hesitatingly. Scipio had seemingly saved the day, but she must make no further mistakes.
“Yes, child.”
“Then you sit here by the hearth, Granny, and Scip with you, and we’ll act a charade.”