“Though I suppose Kate would fancy her phaeton contaminated, if she knew it,” Fan added, with a laugh. “But Dick is bright enough not to say much about it; and I hope Jennie will have a splendid ride. She is just as nice as anybody, even if she does sew for a living. And I wish Dick would take a good honest liking to her.”
“Fan!” said mamma, gravely.
“Which means that I am too young, or too something else, to be thinking of love matters. But they do interest me, mamma mia, and I have a longing to add this one and that one together, and have a sum total of happiness. And then, little mother, you were only seventeen yourself when you promised to love, honor, &c., as Mrs. Brown says; and I shall be seventeen myself at Christmas. And think what an ancient spinster Rose is getting to be!”
Mamma smiled a little, and examined her dress.
“It was thirty-five cents a yard. They had a lovely one for fifty; and I looked at it until the flesh began to grow weak; then I fortified myself by counting my money. And now comes the tug of war to get it made.”
“We will all help a little,” returned mamma.
There was a general outcry the next morning when Mrs. Whitcomb went away. Everybody besieged her to set a day for her return.
“I’ll save out a fortnight for you in September, if I possibly can,” she said, with her sweetest smile. “I hope no one will be sick then, and we will have a good, old-fashioned visiting time. Take the best care you can of my patient, Rose.”
I gathered some fresh flowers and carried them up first of all. Louis nodded his head in thanks.
“I am so sorry Mrs. Whitcomb had to go!” I said, by way of making conversation.