"Hush, hush your squabbling, children," said Aunt Sarah. "Well, Nan, you did have your hands full. I'd have been more put out than I was if I had known those boys were here. I suppose, though, you didn't make any difference for them, just two youngsters like them."
"Indeed we did make a difference," Jack told her proudly. "We had out all the best china and silver, and Nan made biscuits, and we borrowed cake from Cousin Mag, and all that."
"For pity's sake, what did you make all that fuss for over two young cubs of boys?"
"We wanted to give them a good impression," said Nan, with dignity. "Mother says so much depends upon the first impression."
Aunt Sarah laughed. "Well, you might have saved yourselves in my opinion. What are the lads like? Nice fellows?"
"I suppose so," returned Nan doubtfully. "They haven't given us much of a chance to find out. Randolph says very little and Ashby nothing at all except: 'Please pass the bread' or 'Please pass the butter.'"
"Those remarks don't furnish much of a clue to character," remarked Aunt Sarah with a little smile. "Probably they are bashful and are not used to girls. Here in a houseful of them with no older person they feel mighty queer, I have no doubt. Their tongues will loosen up after a few days. You put them in your room? Your mother wrote that you wanted to."
"Yes, and we made it look pretty well. There is a broken chair that Unc' Landy is going to mend, and some of our clothes are still in the press."
"Well, I'll get myself settled and we'll soon have things in running order," returned Aunt Sarah, rising to go to her room.
Nan gave a sigh of relief. It lifted a great weight from her shoulders to have capable Aunt Sarah on hand, to know that in a few minutes the black cashmere would be substituted by a neat calico and that, in her working garb, Aunt Sarah would take control.