There was no need to ask Fly. She was dancing for joy—the absurd little image.
"O, yes'm; I'd be delighted," replied Mother Hubbard, a smile lighting up her face even to the floury tip of her nose. "And I think Horace and Dotty would, too. Shall I go and ask?"
Yes, Horace and Dotty were both pleased with the idea.
"She's a foreigner," said Prudy, doubtfully; "but she talks our language beautifully. She's a dear friend of auntie's, too."
"What I object to," said Horace, "is taking Toddlekins; but I may possibly hire her to stay at home."
It was finally decided that Mrs. Pragoff should call next day and take the children to church with her, and thence home to a Christmas dinner. She laughed, as she rolled away in her carriage, thinking what droll figures they were, and how Prudy blinked through her glasses.
"So I shan't have to cook but one meal more, and that will be breakfast," thought Mother Hubbard, her tired heart leaping up with something like joy.
They sat down to dinner at last.
"Tea urn been standing on the table all this while?" asked Dr. Moonshine, resuming his critical manners; "'twould take the tea some time to freeze on here, Mrs. Hubbard, if that is what you're trying to do with it!"
Mrs. Hubbard pretended not to hear.