Page:Hollyhock house; a story for girls (IA hollyhockhousest00tagg).pdf/38

22 “I don’t think you could call it intruding to stay when you are urged to—and wanted—do you?” asked Mary.

“My only fear is there mayn’t be enough to eat!” said Win.

“There is, then!” declared a new voice, and they all turned to see Abbie Abbott, bringing in a tray with creamed chicken garnished with parsley, and a steaming plate piled with flaky biscuits. Abbie might have been almost any age between twenty-five and sixty-five; in reality she was halfway between those two ages, and a character.

“You’ve enough to feed six delegates to a convention—and they’re the hungriest things I ever come across, Mr. Win! Mr. Moulton and Mis’ Moulton called on the phome and said they’d be over to-night,” added Abbie.

“We always say Mr. and Mrs. Moulton called,” remarked Jane, as Abbie disappeared. “You don’t speak of every one together as you do them. I wonder why!”

“And you don’t hear people calling over the ‘phome’ unless you happen to be Abbie Abbott,” added Win. “Sounds like a sea song.

I heard a voice across the foam:

To-night I’ll tread the Garden loam;

Helm hard a-lee, I’m sailing home!”