“Which he isn’t,” pursued Miss Orinda, “and it doesn’t do you any good to brood over your loss, or to magnify every little ache and pain; you’ll end in a sanitarium.”
“But I do suffer; you don’t know,” complained Mrs. Barton plaintively.
“From lack of exercise, rich food, and nothing to think of but your own self,” continued Miss Orinda. “If you had to hustle for your bread and butter, and turned your thoughts out instead of in, you’d find life more interesting; but when your hardest exercise is cutting off coupons, and your chief interest is in germs, vitamines, and X-rays, what can you expect? As I see it, it’s up to you to adopt Ellen. Don’t you think so, Uncle Jo?”
“H’m, well, each must be his own judge in such matters,” replied Mr. Crump, leaning back in his chair and placing the tips of his fingers together. “I believe in freedom of thought, in——”
“Oh, do shut up, Jo,” said his sister, Mrs. Ed. Shirley, a stout, comfortable, well-dressed woman. “Once you get off on one of your harangues there will be no stopping you. Of course every one knows that, with my big family, I couldn’t be expected to take the girl. It is as much as I can do to manage my own brood, so count me out, Orinda.”
“I don’t see why you all constitute me chairman of this meeting,” retorted Miss Orinda. “If age has any prerogative, it isn’t up to me to preside.”
“Well, it’s your house, and you got us here,” returned Mrs. Shirley.
“To read you the letters from Dr. Markham and Mr. Barstow, that you might understand how imperative it is that Ellen should be provided for at once. You all have your own cars, so it was no effort for you to get here.”
“What is the matter with her Uncle Leonard? Why isn’t he here? He is nearer of kin than we are, and has no children,” Mrs. Shirley went on.
“He has sea duty for two years, and I don’t know where he is.”