"I can't go 'em onless they're plumb fresh," she replied non-committally.
"I've had such a pleasant call." Mrs. Symes rose.
"Run in agin." Mrs. Jackson's eyes were glued upon the leather card-case from which Mrs. Symes was endeavoring to extract a card with fingers which she was unable to bend.
"Thanks. I've been so busy getting settled and all but now I mean to keep a servant and shall have more time."
Mrs. Jackson had read of ladies who kept servants but never had hoped to know one.
"Where you goin' to git—it? From Omyhaw or K. C.?"
"Grandmother has promised to come to me," said Mrs. Symes languidly.
Mrs. Jackson's jaw dropped.
"Gramma Kunkel ain't a servant, is she? she's 'help.'"
"'Help' are servants," explained Mrs. Symes with gentle patience as she laid her printed visiting card upon the centre table.