And Miss Sophy, who was plump and loose-lipped, with thicker and larger curls, began to wax restless.
"It's a strong wind, to be sure," she remarked, "and rather boisterous—at least, it sounds so—but not so very cold, sister. March isn't so cold as January; and I generally get out even in January. I haven't been outside the door once to-day."
"No, Sophy; you haven't."
"I almost think I should like to get just a breath. It's so refreshing. You mustn't, because of your eyes; but for me it is different. I can wrap up warmly. There's Mimy taking a look down the street. And Jessie is there still: because we haven't seen her go away. They are nice girls. I always do like Mimy, and her mother too, though it doesn't do to say so to Mrs. Mokes."
"I wonder what Jessie Perkins has got to do with the matter," debated Miss Coxen, letting her work lie on her knee. "Seems to me she's a great deal with the Groateses, slipping in and out. I don't believe Miss Perkins half knows how often. It's no business of yours or mine, of course; but still I do wonder if Miss Perkins knows."
"She's a funny woman, Miss Perkins, though it wouldn't do to say so to everybody."
"And she's done a lot for Jessie. Why, if it wasn't for her, Jessie might just have gone into the Union. The girl ought to be grateful. But young people in these days don't trouble their heads to be grateful. They only want to have their owns way. And Jessie's like the rest of them."
"Well, well!" sighed Miss Sophy, in deprecating tones. She was burning to get out, but did not see her way to doing so, unless Miss Coxen should take up her suggestion.
"I don't believe it ever so much as comes into that girl's mind how much she owes to her aunt. She takes it all as a matter of course. That's the way. I don't say,—" and Miss Coxen shook her little ringlets,—"I don't say Miss Perkins is one to make a young girl fond of her. She's sort of cold in her ways, you know. But there's duty to be thought of."
"And really, sister, I can't, for my part, see that Jessie is wanting in her duty to Miss Perkins. I really can't! I'm sure she's as steady and nice a girl as you could wish; and she always does as her aunt tells her. And if she does find her home a little dull, and makes friends outside, isn't it natural? And that young Groates is as nice a young fellow as anybody can come across; as good to his mother as a daughter."