“It’s too bad to take those things off of Eliza,” said Dolly, “she looks so pretty in ’em. Let’s take her, wheelbarrow and all, to show to the aunties.”
“I’m ’fraid Aunt Nine will faint again,” objected Dick.
“Oh, no, she won’t; it was the carving knife that scared her.”
So the twins trundled the white-draped wheelbarrow, and its white-garbed occupant straight up to the front door of the house.
“Come out, aunties!” they called. “The queen wants you to salute her majesty!”
Hearing the commotion, the three ladies came out on the veranda, and this time Aunt Penninah did not faint, but seemed greatly interested in the majestic Eliza.
“What have you put on her?” the old lady cried. “Why, they’re clothes,—rough-dry! Did you take them from the clotheslines? Rachel, do you allow these children to act up like that? I am ashamed of them, and you, too!”
Just then Delia came out to the veranda with a clothes-basketful of the garments the children had played with. Good-natured Delia rarely minded the twins’ mischief, but it had been a specially hard day, and the extra work and company had tired her out completely. Also, it was annoying to find her carefully washed clothes all muddied and grass-stained!
“Will ye look at this, Miss Rachel!” she exclaimed, her face red and angry. “It’s too much to ask of a gur-rl to hurry up her wash an’ cook for comp’ny on a Monday, an’ thin to go fer her clothes, an’ find ’em like this!”
Aunt Rachel and Aunt Abbie looked at the twins. So did Aunt Penninah. Dick and Dolly looked at the clothes in Delia’s basket. They were a sorry sight, but the twins seemed surprised rather than ashamed.