"I wish that he'd never come," said Elizabeth.
"Oh, but he will. He'll be back to-morrow morning, with the bells on, and the flags flying, and a footman on the step of his car to show how classy he is. Just you wait."
"Oh, dear," said Elizabeth, with a glance toward the open window of the dining room where her brother was sitting, "oh, dear, Peggy!"
CHAPTER XIX
Ruth
The small reception room in the Farraday cottage had been converted into a temporary sewing room, and here Elizabeth and Peggy were sewing on their own blue dimity frocks, fitted to them by the Boston seamstress, who had been working in the house, and finished except for the hemstitching to be done on sleeves and collar. Peggy sewed neatly but erratically, exploding into violent protestations when her thread knotted or her scissors fell. Elizabeth found the steady rhythm of hemming rather soothing to her, especially to-day, when her heart was so heavy for her brother.
"Piggy's—I mean, Mr. Chambers' parents have sent the flat silver," Peggy announced, "and to my taste it's very hideous. It's the kind with a beading all around it. If you are going to have elaborate silver, why—have it. Have Cupids and little birds building nests, but if you are going to have it simple, why, then it's a crime, I think, to have a little trimming on it."
"You've got very good natural taste, Peggy—my mother says so."