“I suppose we’re not very hospitable,” said Miss Priscilla; “but I just hate to have company, they upset things so.”
“But sometimes it seems a duty,” said her sister.
“Not at all; that’s where you’re silly, Dorinda. I believe in charity, and giving of our worldly goods to help our less fortunate neighbors; but that doesn’t mean we’re to open our doors and let them all come in and make themselves at home. Do you remember when Ann Haskell came again, and rode up in a hack from the station, bringing a big bag with her?”
“Yes; and you told the driver to come for her again directly after dinner.”
“I did, or she would have stayed another week. My, but she was surprised!”
“I know it; I couldn’t do anything like that!”
“Then you’re a coward, Dorinda. It is certainly cowardly to have company because you’re afraid to tell them they can’t stay. Now here’s another matter. The Dorcas Circle wants to make up a box of clothing for those fire-sufferers; so what do you think of giving them some of Lavinia’s things?”
“Oh!” gasped Miss Dorinda, in a startled tone.
“I think we may as well,” went on Miss Priscilla. “It’s fourteen years now since Lavinia died. They say, keep a thing seven years, and you’ll have use for it again; but we’ve kept these things twice over seven years, and I don’t see how they can ever be of use to us, except to give away.”
“Well,” said Miss Dorinda, still dazed, “perhaps you are right.”