She was quite shy and embarrassed when Miss Lawrence called. A large, pleasant-looking woman, with indications of wealth and refinement that Dil felt at once, and she seemed so much farther away than Mrs. Wilson. But she questioned Dil very gently, and drew her out with a rare art. The pale face and evident weakness appealed to her,—seemed, indeed, to call for immediate attention.
“I shall put you on our next week’s list,” Miss Lawrence said with gracious interest. “If any one ever earned a rest, I think you have. And I will come in to-morrow evening and talk it over with your brother and the boys.”
The “boys” made themselves scarce, except Patsey and Owen, although Shorty went and sat on Mrs. Brian’s stoop. But Miss Lawrence had seen boys before, and even ventured on a dainty bit of slang that won Patsey at once. He was eager for Dil to go and get some red cheeks like Owen. It didn’t seem as if the two could be brother and sister.
If Miss Lawrence had seen the sleeping accommodations she would have been more than shocked; and yet there were hundreds in the city not as well housed, and few of the real poor as tidily kept.
“It would be jes’ lovely to go,” admitted Dil, with curious reluctance. “But a whole week!”
“Two weeks!” almost shouted Patsey. “An’ youse’ll come home so fat wid de new milk an’ all, yer clo’es won’t fit yer. We’ll jes’ hev to make an auction an’ sell em’ second-hand.”
“An’ take half the money an buy her some new ones,” said Owen with a laugh. “T’other half we’ll put in the bank.”
Shorty had come sneaking back, and joined in the merriment.
“’N’ I kin cook purty good, ’n’ wash dishes,” began Patsey, when Dil interrupted,—
“Oh, you will be careful of thim, won’t you?”