Meg and Harry seemed to think it was a very attractive sight to see Hatty with the baby on her lap, and they left their soap-bubbles and came to stand about her.
At this moment Aunt Barbara came in. She did not seem to notice Hatty and the baby. Her eyes at once fell upon the bowl full of soap-suds Meg had placed on a chair.
“Dear! dear!” exclaimed Aunt Barbara, “what are the children coming to? Why, they waste soap as if it grew, instead of cost money! Here, Meg, pour this away directly, and don’t do such a thing again!”
“It won’t help it to throw it away,” said Meg. “I want to blow bubbles.”
“Shan’t have it! shan’t have it!” said little Harry, holding tight to the edge of the bowl with his little fat hands.
“Aunt Barbara,” said Mrs. Lee, very gently, “I told the children they might blow bubbles a little while this afternoon. Jane mixed the soap for them, that they need not be wasteful.”
“Its little use savin’ in such a house as this!” said Aunt Barbara, and she walked away as if she were particularly injured.
Marcus now came in to tell how happy and contented the chickens seemed in the new coop. He saw some evidences of displeasure on the faces of Meg and Harry, and he exclaimed, “I met Aunt Barbara in the hall, with her indignation strut on. What’s up?”
“Marcus, my son, I cannot bear to hear you speak in that way of any old person, especially of Aunt Barbara.”
“But she is too tiresome and provoking, Mother. If I want a piece of twine for a kite-string she calls it wasteful, and—”