"It is clean enough now for even grandmother to eat in," said Virginia,
as she spread a cloth on the table Unc' Henry had carried out for them.
"It's good enough for a queen. Oh, I'll tell you what let's do. Let's
play that Malcolm and I are a wicked king and queen and Lloyd is a
'fair ladye' that we have shut up in a dungeon. This will be a banquet,
and while we are eating Keith can be the knight who comes to her rescue
and carries her off on his pony."
"That's all right," consented Keith, "except the eating part. How can we
get our share of the picnic?"
"We'll save it for you," answered Virginia, "and you can eat it
afterward."
"Save enough for Jonesy, too," said Keith. "He shall be my page and help
me rescue her. I'll go and ask him now."
The month had made a great change in Jonesy. With plenty to eat, his
thin little snub-nosed face grew plump and bright. There was a
good-humoured twinkle in his sharp eyes, and being quick as a monkey at
imitating the movements of those around him, Mrs. MacIntyre found
nothing to criticise in his manners when Malcolm and Keith brought him
into the house. Their pride in him was something amusing, and seeing
that, after all, he was an inoffensive little fellow, she made no more
objections to their playing with him.
By the time Keith was back again with Jonesy, the other guests had
arrived, and the Little Colonel had been lowered into a deep feed-bin,
in lieu of a dungeon.
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