"Doris ought to learn plain sewing——"
"Poor little mite! How your cares will increase. Can I take her over to Mme. Sheafe's some day?"
"If there is ever any time," with a sigh.
"Do you know your spelling?" She flew over to Doris and asked a question with her eyes, and Doris answered in the same fashion, though she had a fancy that she ought not. Betty took her book and found that Doris knew all but two words.
"If I could only do sums as easily," she said, with a plaintive sound in her voice.
"Oh, you will learn. You can't do everything in a moment, or your education would soon be finished."
"What is Mme. Sheafe like?" she asked with some curiosity, thinking of Aunt Priscilla.
"She is a very splendid, tall old lady. She ought to be a queen. And she was quite rich at one time, but she isn't now, and she lives in a little one-story cottage that is just like—well, full of curious and costly things. And now she gives lessons in embroidery and lace work, and hemstitching and fine sewing, and she wears the most beautiful gowns and laces and rings."
"Your tongue runs like a mill race, Betty."
"I think everybody in Boston is tall," said Doris with quaint consideration that made both mother and daughter laugh.