"What are you going to do with this, Aunt Hester?" she asked.
"Make a coat for Billy."
"Whose did it use to be?"
"My father's."
"Oh." Ruth's mind wandered to the time when the coat had been new. It must have been a long time ago, she considered. She wondered what old Major Brackenbury kept in his pockets, and surreptitiously slipped her hand in the one which was still hanging to the piece of cloth upon which she was at work. He might have been fond of peppermint lozenges, she thought, like Dr. Peaslee who never failed to produce one when he met Ruth. But no lozenges of any kind were to be found; only some siftings of tobacco and particles of dust did Ruth's hand bring forth from the deep pocket.
She worked away diligently for a few minutes, then her tongue wagged again. "Was your father like Dr. Peaslee?" she questioned.
"Not a bit," sighed Miss Hester. "He was tall and slim, though not too slim. He carried a gold-headed cane. I can see him now," she stretched forth her hand and smoothed the cloth which lay in Ruth's lap. "I can see him now in that very coat coming out the gate with Bruno at his heels."
Ruth's eyes followed hers to the big house across the way. The tall white pillars were visible through the evergreens. It had been a pleasant place to live in.
"I know all about Bruno," she said, "but tell me some more. I am so tired of unripping."
"Of ripping, you mean. You couldn't unzip, you know. You have only five minutes more, so I can't begin to tell tales now. I want you to find Billy and tell him I want him to go to the store when he has finished his task."