At this there was laughter, chiefly from the boys. Rupert exclaimed:
"A nice sort of old-fashioned Christmas you'll find it will be. You'll be sorry you came before it's through."
"I am not so sure of that."
There appeared to be something in my tone which caused a touch of silence to descend upon the group. They regarded each other doubtfully, as if in my words a reproof was implied. Bessie was again the spokeswoman.
"Of course, now that you have come, we mean to be nice to you, that is as nice as we can. Because the thing is that we are not in a condition to receive visitors. Do we look as if we were?"
To be frank, they did not. Even Madge was a little unkempt, while the boys were in what I believe is the average state of the average boy.
"And," murmured Madge, "where is Mr. Christopher to sleep?"
"What is he to eat?" inquired Bessie. She glanced at my packages. "I suppose you have brought nothing with you?"
"I'm afraid I haven't. I had hoped to have found something ready for me on my arrival."
Again they peeped at each other, as if ashamed. Madge repeated her former suggestion.