“Now,” he said, “here’s some Pale-face for you, squaw.”
“Oh,” she said, “I’m sure he’s awfully good, but——”
“You needn’t be frightened of it,” said William protectively. “It’s jolly good, I can tell you.” He picked up the paper cover of a packet of soup from behind the trees. “It’s jus’ that and water and it’s jolly good!”
“How lovely! Do they let you——?”
“They don’t let me,” he broke in hastily, “but there’s heaps in the larder and they don’t notice one every now an’ then. Go on!” encouragingly, “I don’t mind you having it! Honest, I don’t! I’ll get some more soon.”
Bravely she raised the tin to her lips and took a sip.
“Gorgeous!” she said, shutting her eyes. Then she drained the tin.
William’s face shone with pride and happiness. But it clouded over as the sound of a bell rang out from the house.
“Crumbs! That’s tea!”
Hastily Miss Cannon took the feathers from her hair and put on her hat.