Katie had a dim suspicion that she owed this pleasure to her brother's influence.
"Hollis," said she, eagerly,—"Hollis, you may have the red part o' my apple."
This sounded like the very fulness of generosity, but was a hollow mockery; for by the "red part" she only meant the skin.
Mr. Clifford had one horse, and while Robin Sherwood was going to the city for another, Mrs. Clifford made ready the lunch.
Happy Dotty walked about, twirling a lock of her front hair, and watched Katinka cleaning the already nice paint, spilling here and there "little drops of water, little grains of sand." She also observed the solemn yet dextrous manner in which Phebe washed the breakfast dishes, and looked on with peculiar interest as Aunt Maria filled the basket.
First there were custards to be baked in little cups and freckled with nutmeg, to please Uncle Edward. Then there was a quantity of eggs to be boiled hard. As Mrs. Clifford dropped these one by one into a kettle of water, Katie ran to the back door, and cried out to the noisy hens,—
"Stop cacklerin', chickie; we've got 'em."
Then, fearing she had not made herself understood, she added,—
"We've found your aigs, chickie; they was ror, but we's goin' to bake 'em."
Dotty was impressed with the beauty of the picnic basket and the delicacy of the food. Everything she saw was rose-colored to-day.