But when you've said that, you've said it all.

Books, music, fun, and frosting on their cake they know nothing about--except to long for them." "But there are the churches and the charities, and all those long-named Societies--I thought that was what they were for," declared Bertram, still a little aggrievedly, his worried eyes on Billy's tired face.
"Oh, but the churches and charities don't frost cakes nor give sugarplums," smiled Billy.

"And it's right that they shouldn't, too," she added quickly.

"They have more than they can do now with the roast beef and coal and flannel petticoats that are really necessary." "And so it's just frosting and sugarplums, is it--these books and magazines and concert tickets and lace collars for the crippled boy, the spinster lady, the little widow, and all the rest of those people who were here last summer ?" Billy turned in confused surprise.
"Why, Bertram, however in the world did you find out about all--that ?" "I didn't.

I just guessed it--and it seems 'the boy guessed right the very first time,'" laughed Bertram, teasingly, but with a tender light in his eyes.