“Don’t you want to try on my new cape?” asked Faith, as they reached the kitchen, a much pleasanter room than the one they had left.
Louise shook her head. “I daresn’t,” she replied. “Father may come in. And he’d take my head off.”
“You are coming to see me, Louise. Aunt Prissy is talking to your father about it now,” said Faith; but Louise was not to be convinced.
“He won’t let me. You’ll see,” she answered mournfully. “I know. He’ll think your aunt is ‘Charity.’ Why, he won’t make shoes any more for the minister because his wife brought me a dress; and I didn’t wear the dress, either.”
But there was a surprise in store for Louise, for when Mrs. Scott and Mr. Trent entered the kitchen the shoemaker was smiling; and it seemed to Faith that he stood more erect, and did not look so much like the picture of the orang-outang.
“Louise, Mrs. Scott and I have been making a bargain,” he said. “I am going to make shoes for her boys, and she is going to make dresses for my girl. Exchange work; I believe that’s right, isn’t it, ma’am?” and he turned to Mrs. Scott with a little bow.
“Yes, it is quite right. And I’ll send you the bill for materials,” said Aunt Prissy.
“Of course. Well, Louise, I warrant you’re old enough to have proper dresses. And Mrs. Scott will take you home to stay with her until you are all fixed up as fine as this little maid,” and the shoemaker nodded to Faith.
“Do you mean I’m to stay up there?” asked Louise, pointing in the direction of the Scotts’ house. “I can’t. Who’d take care of you, father?”