“For Joe, to be slangy,” and Fan laughed. “But you have just finished the carpet, and you are the eldest, and you can brush up your hair so quickly. Here, wash your face and I’ll get out your dress.”
I washed and brushed, or rather just ran the comb through my hair and twisted it in a great knot, put on some tidy slippers and a blue cambric with ruffles at the wrist and throat. While I was fastening my brooch Fan tied a pale blue ribbon in my hair.
“There, you look as sweet as a pink, only I never saw any blue pinks. Don’t say you are just out of the soap-suds. Remember to uphold the family credit.”
It was “all of the Maynards,” and a very elegant young gentleman. Mrs. Silverthorne and the Misses Maynards were going West next week, and had come to make a farewell call. They were very sorry to miss mamma—how could we get along without her?
I said Mrs. Whitcomb was here taking charge of us.
“There;” began Mrs. Silverthorne, “Matilda, I don’t see why you can’t get her to come and stay with grandma this winter, and you go to the City for two months or so. I am sure if Mrs. Endicott feels it safe to leave all of her children, you might leave just one person.”
“Mamma has the baby and my youngest sister with her,” I returned. “And she only expects to stay a week.”
I could not see that the cases were at all parallel.
“Well, this Mrs. Whitcomb is a nice, trusty sort of person, is she not? Doesn’t she take care of sick people?”
“Yes; she is very lovely.”