At the last moment Mom Beck waylaid them in the hall with two huge bundles.
"I couldn't do nothin' else fo' you chillun," she said, as she offered them.

"Ole Becky ain't got much to give but her blessing but I can _cook_ yit, and I done made you a big spice cake apiece, and icened it with icin' an inch thick." The girls thanked her till her black face beamed, but they looked at each other ruefully when they were in the carriage.
"How I am ever to reach New York with a big frosted cake in my arms is more than I know," said Eugenia.

"I'll have to cut it up and pass it around on the train." "But think of me," groaned Joyce.

"I have my cake and Bob, too, and nobody to carry my satchel and umbrella." The kissing and hand-shaking began, and a cross-fire of good-byes.

"Give my love to your mother, Joyce." "Write to me first thing, Eugenia." "Good-bye, Betty." "Good-bye, Lloyd." "Keith and I won't make our adieux now; we'll follow you to the station and see you off on the train." "Good-bye! Good-bye, everybody!" At last the carriage started on, but was brought to a halt by a shrill call from Rob.