Amarilly did not respond to his light flow of chatter on the way home.
She halted on the threshold of her home, and looked at him with despair
in her honest young eyes.
"Our house hasn't got any insides or any stairs even. Just a ladder."
"Good! I knew you wouldn't--that you couldn't have a house like anyone's
else. It sounds interesting and artistic. Open your door to me,
Amarilly."
Slowly she opened the door, and drew a sigh of relief. The big room was
"tidied" ("redded" having been censored by Derry some time ago) and a
very peaceful, homelike atmosphere prevailed. The Boarder, being an
amateur carpenter, had made a very long table about which were grouped
the entire family. Her mother was darning socks; the Boarder, reading
the paper preliminary to his evening call on Lily Rose; the boys, busy
with books and games; Cory, rocking her doll to sleep.
Their entrance made quite a little commotion. There was a scattering of
boys from the table until Derry called "Halt" in stentorian tones. "If
there's any gap in the circle, I shall go."
Then he joined the group, and described to the boys a prize-fight so
graphically that their eyes fastened on him with the gaze of one
witnessing the event itself. He praised Amarilly to the mother, gave
Cory a "tin penny" which she at once recognized as a silver quarter, and
talked politics so eloquently with the Boarder that for once he was
loath to leave when the hour of seven-thirty arrived.
"You've gotter go now," reminded Cory sternly. "You see," turning to
Derry. "he's gotter go and spend his ev'nin' with Lily Rose. She's his
gal."
"Oh! Well, why not bring her here to spend the evening?" suggested
Derry. "Then you'll have an excuse for two nice walks and an evening
thrown in."
"That's a fine, idee!" acknowledged the Boarder with a sheepish grin.
He at once set out on his quest accompanied by Bobby, whom Derry had
dispatched to the corner grocery for a supply of candy and peanuts.
The Boarder and Lily Rose came in laden with refreshments. The Boarder
bore a jug of cider "right on the turn," he declared, "so it stings your
throat agoin' down."
Lily Rose had brought a bag of sugared doughnuts which she had made that
afternoon (a half holiday) in her landlady's kitchen.
When Mrs. Jenkins learned from Amarilly that Derry and she had had
nothing to eat since half past one, she brought forth a pan of beans and
a pumpkin pie, and they had a genuine New England supper. The Boarder
recited thrilling tales of railroad wrecks. Derry listened to a solo by
Bud, whose wild-honeyed voice was entrancing to the young artist.
Altogether they were a jolly little party, Lily Rose saying little, but
looking and listening with animated eyes. Mrs. Jenkins declared
afterwards that it was the time of her life.