She went in with Eric presently. They had a good hot supper, and Anne was hungry. Gathered around the table were Peter and his wife, Beulah and Eric, with Peggy rounding out the half dozen. Geoffrey Fox had gone to town to get his belongings.
Anne had a vision of Richard and his mother in the big house. At their table would be lovely linen and shining silver, and some little formality of service. She felt that she belonged to people like that. She had nothing in common with Peter and his wife and with Eric Brand. Nor with Beulah.
Beulah was planning a little party for the evening. There was to have been skating, but the warmer weather and the snow had made that impossible.
"I don't know just what I'll do with them," she said; "we might have games."
"Anne knows a lot of things." This from Peggy, who was busy with her bread and milk.
"What things?"
"Oh, dancing——"
Anne flushed. "Peggy!"
"But we do. We make bows like this——"
Peggy slid out of her chair and bobbed for them—a most entrancing little curtsey, with all her curls flying.