THE following Saturday, the girls carried their Christmas sewing to Jean's. The sewing had not reached a very exciting stage, so tongues moved faster than fingers. Mabel was still working on a shoe-bag for her father but, owing to some misadventure, one of the two compartments was several sizes larger than the other. Mabel regarded this difference with disapproval until comforting Jean came to the rescue.
"Perhaps," suggested Jean, "there's a difference in the size of your father's feet."
"Oh, there is," cried Mabel, gleefully. "His right shoe is always tighter than the left."
"But," objected quick-witted Marjory, "it isn't his feet that are going into that bag. It's his shoes, and they're the same size."
"Oh," groaned Mabel, settling into a disconsolate heap, "that's so."
"Never mind," said Bettie. "Give me the bag, and I'll fix those pockets."
Bettie was embroidering an elaborate pincushion for her mother, but she stopped so often to help the others that there seemed small hope of its ever getting finished. Marjory, who was making one just like it for her Aunty Jane, was progressing much more rapidly.
Jean, rummaging in her work-bag, was trying to decide which of four partly completed articles to sew on when a carriage stopped at Mrs. Mapes's gate.
"It's a caller," said Jean. "We'll have to vacate. Here, scurry into the dining-room with all your stuff. I'll answer the bell; and you, Bettie, remind Mother to take off her apron—she's apt to forget it."