As Mrs. Forest flushed and tried to smile Peggy recalled the curious remark Mr. Huntington had made about people coming to him for money every time "certain rumors" came up afresh. She pondered over this.
"I will write a little note of acceptance," Mrs. Forest mused.
And, after dinner, to the anguish of all the girls, she did.
"That was the only way she'd let us go," Peggy told them all in self-defense, and then in the delight of definite plans their joy in the prospect returned.
You wouldn't have recognized Gloomy House if you had seen it before the Andrews girls' ministrations and then walked into it in company with those gay young people on Thanksgiving noon. All spick and span and as gloomless as a house should be on that wonderful day, it was made cheery by leaping flames in the big fireplaces, and by gorgeous, flaunting chrysanthemums in tall vases. Mr. Huntington was all dressed up for the occasion and came forward to greet the guests, now in their best clothes, just as if he had not said good-by to most of them an hour earlier when they ran out the back door toward their school, clad in checked aprons and equipped with scrubbing brushes and brooms and mops.
Mrs. Forest, of course, had not been one of the broom brigade, nor of the more aristocratically occupationed cooking contingent, either. She swept magnificently into the room and gave Mr. Huntington a high handshake that was meant to impress him very much, but didn't.
"I think the dinner is nearly ready," called a gay little voice from the kitchen, and Peggy's head was thrust through the doorway, all bright with its crooked dimples much in evidence. Her fair hair was curling moistly around her forehead and her face was all pink and hot from being so near the stove for so long a time.
"It's been a terrible ordeal if you want to know it," complained Florence Thomas, her assistant, laughing as they brought the dinner to the table. "I feel all sizzled up and roasted, and both my hands are cut and burned beyond recognition. But if _anyone ever_ saw such a wonderful dinner before, I envy them the experience, that's all."
The long-unused table at Huntington House was one of the most gorgeous sights that the hungry eyes of school-girls ever beheld. Mr. Huntington himself looked as if he could hardly believe he was awake when he saw its lavish magnificence.