“You think you could work yet?” ventured Lyddy.
“Why, bless ye! I’ve gone out washin’ an’ scrubbin’ when I could. But folks on this ridge ain’t able to have much help. Still, them I’ve worked for will give me a good word. No young woman can ekal me, I’m proud to say. I was brought up to work, I was, an’ I ain’t never got rusty.”
Lyddy looked at ’Phemie with shining eyes. At first the younger sister didn’t comprehend what Lyddy was driving at. But suddenly a light flooded her mind.
“Goody! that’s just the thing!” cried ’Phemie, clasping her hands.
“What might ye be meanin’?” demanded the puzzled Mrs. Harrison, looking at the girls alternately.
“You are just the person we want, Mrs. Harrison,” Lyddy declared, “and we are just the persons you want. It is a mutual need, and for once the two needs have come together.”
“I don’t make out what ye mean, child,” returned the old woman.
“Why, you want work and a home. We need somebody to help us, and we have plenty of space so that you can have a nice big room to yourself at Hillcrest, and I know we shall get along famously. Do, do, Mrs. Harrison! Let’s try it!”
A blush rose slowly into the old woman’s face. Her eyes shone with sudden unshed tears as she continued to look at Lyddy.
“You don’t know what you’re saying, child!” she finally declared, hoarsely.