Molly helped her guest with a lavish hand. And Blanche set to work with a will to reduce her overflowing plate. She felt it was no moment for protest. She had no desire to upset this girl’s ideas of hospitality. Besides, she was really hungry.
For some moments the two ate in silence. Then Molly poured out tea, and her eagerness would no longer be denied.
“You’re the first girl I’ve seen sitting at this table, ma’am,” she said, as she passed a cup to Blanche, and set milk and sugar near to her hand.
Blanche looked up.
“My name’s Blanche,” she said.
Molly blushed.
“It seems queer saying ‘Blanche’ to you.”
“But you must. I called you ‘Molly’ right away.”
“But it’s diff’rent.”
“Is it?” Blanche shook her head. “It isn’t. You and I are going to be friends. Good friends. I shall certainly be around all summer, and maybe longer. And I’m going to see you whenever I can. So I’m ‘Blanche’ to you, and only the other to folks I don’t know and don’t care about.”