“I believe I shall have to get glasses,” she said wearily. “I cannot do fine work in the evening. I am afraid I shall spoil it, and I’ve always been such a neat worker.”
“Let me finish,” said the girl. Every inch of her protested, but it was for her mother’s sake. Lately she had done several things to ease her.
“Yes, let me,” she went on, taking the work from her mother’s hands. “You know I can darn nicely.”
Lilian took infinite pains. It was slow work, but at last it was accomplished.
“You are such a dear, good daughter, and it is said booky people are never anything with a needle, but you could get your living with it.”
Then she took her work down stairs and came back flushed and smiling.
“Look, Lilian,” in a tone of pride, “it hardly shows! Cook said she never saw more beautiful darning and that in a big city I could make a fortune at lace mending. Will you take it to Miss Howe?”
“No, mother,” and Lilian spoke in a dignified but not unkindly manner. “We are not here to run and wait on the girl. Let Miss Howe come for it.”
Mrs. Boyd felt disappointed. She wanted some one beside cook to praise her handiwork.
Louie fidgeted about her skirt. She and Zay were in Phil’s room talking over the coming Christmas and Mrs. Crawford’s return.