"Maybe they went and hurried to get ripe for to-night, so we could celebrate," Patience suggested. "Paul, mayn't I go with you next time you go over to The Maples?"
"We'll see what mother says."
"I hate 'we'll see's'!" Patience declared, reaching so far over after a particularly tempting berry, that she lost her balance, and fell face down among them.
"Oh, dear!" she sighed, as her sister came to her assistance, "something always seems to happen clean-apron afternoon! Paul, wouldn't it be a 'good time,' if Miranda would agree not to scold 'bout perfectly unavoidable accidents once this whole summer?"
"Who's to do the deciding as to the unavoidableness?" Pauline asked. "Come on, Patience, we've got about all the ripe ones, and it must be time for you to lay the supper-table."
"Not laying supper-tables would be another good time," Patience answered. "We did get enough, didn't we? I'll hull them."
"I wonder," Pauline said, more as if speaking to herself, "whether maybe mother wouldn't think it good to have Jane in now and then—for extra work? Not supper-tables, young lady."
"Jane would love it. She likes to work with Miranda—she says
Miranda's such a nice lady. Do you think she is, Paul?"
"I'm thinking about other things just now."
"I don't—There's mother. Goodness, Miranda's got the cloth on!"
And away sped the child.