Beulah - Page 3/348

Claudia laughed with mingled mischief and chagrin. "You say you

would not eat a bit of roby-pie to save your life? Well, you did it

last week, anyhow."

"Oh, Claudy, I didn't!"

"Oh, but you did! Don't you remember Susan picked up a bird last

week that fell out of this very tree, and gave it to our matron?

Well, didn't we have bird-pie for dinner?"

"Yes, but one poor little fellow would not make a pie."

"They had some birds already that came from the market, and I heard

Mrs. Williams tell Susan to put it in with the others. So, you see,

you did eat roby-pie, and I didn't, for I knew what was in it. I saw

its head wrung off!"

"Well, I hope I did not get any of roby. I won't eat any more pie

till they have all gone," was Lilly's consolatory reflection.

Chancing to glance toward the gate, she exclaimed: "There is a carriage."

"What is to-day? Let me see--Wednesday. Yes, this is the evening for

the ladies to meet here. Lil, is my face right clean? because that

red-headed Miss Dorothy always takes particular pains to look at it.

She rubbed her pocket-handkerchief over it the other day. I do hate

her, don't you?" cried Claudia, springing up and buttoning the band

of her apron sleeve, which had become unfastened.

"Why, Claudy, I am astonished to hear you talk so. Miss Dorothy

helps to buy food and clothes for us, and you ought to be ashamed to

speak of her as you do." As she delivered this reprimand Beulah

snatched up a small volume and hid it in her work-basket.

"I don't believe she gives us much. I do hate her, and I can't help

it; she is so ugly, and cross, and vinegar-faced. I should not like

her to look at my mug of milk. You don't love her either, any more

than I do, only you won't say anything about her. But kiss me, and I

promise I will be good, and not make faces at her in my apron."

Beulah stooped down and warmly kissed the suppliant, then took her

little sister's hand and led her into the house, just as the

carriage reached the door. The children presented a pleasant

spectacle as they entered the long dining room, and ranged

themselves for inspection. Twenty-eight heirs of orphanage, varying

in years, from one crawling infant to well-nigh grown girls, all

neatly clad, and with smiling, contented faces, if we except one

grave countenance, which might have been remarked by the close

observer.