“Five dollars, and where did you get five dollars?” Miss Rindy leaned forward with real eagerness.
“Earned it.”
“How?”
“Playing wedding marches for Miss Matilda Andrews’ wedding.”
“You don’t mean to say they paid you for that? I thought you did it as a favor so Jeremy could go to that musical thing he was so set upon.”
“He called it a favor, but I was paid just the same.”
“You ought to give it right back to him.”
“I tried to, but he won’t take it, so to ease my conscience I am going to blow it in on a party for you, which he can enjoy as well as the rest.”
“That is a perfectly absurd and ridiculous notion. You need shoes.”
“I can get along with those I have, or wear a pair of Mother’s if I stuff cotton in the toes. If worst comes to worst, I can go to one of those communities where they run around barefoot for their health’s sake. Now, Cousin Rindy, I don’t mind those disapproving looks one little bit. I’ve made all my arrangements. In a few minutes I expect the first birthday cake to be delivered. The invitations are all out; I hope you will approve of the list. The cakes are baked, or will be before the morning is over, so this evening you must be ready to receive your guests. I don’t believe you will be so cruel as to disappoint them and me.”