But Jack, with a wild glance at the door, as he came to himself, was beyond
conundrums, as he thought of what he'd done.
"Tell some of 'em, Jack," cried Joel eagerly, emerging from his surprise.
"What are they, Jack? Tell some."
"Not now," said Mrs. Sterling, interposing. "Jack is going to write them
out, and they will be sent in as his contribution to Lawrence."
Sent in to Larry Keep's big house, almost as grand as the one Jack sat in
now, by him, a little six-penny grocer's son, doing business over at the
South End! He couldn't believe his ears, and to assist them, he lifted his
eyes and stared at the person making the announcement. Evidently she meant
it, and the more he gazed at her face, the better he liked it. But he
didn't dare to stare long, so he concluded to transfer his attention from
it to the carpet.
"We are getting on so well," said Mrs. Sterling, and her tone was very
cheery, "that I am really quite hopeful that Lawrence may be amused by all
that we are to do for him. And now, before we go any further in our plan,
suppose we take a little comfort ourselves." And she laughed a gay little
laugh that wouldn't have sounded badly as Polly's own. "Gibson," she
called.
Out came Gibson from the little room next.
"Will you bring us a tray of some of the nice things you always can get up,
Gibson?" said her mistress.
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