"I like aprons," she said; and the old woman took the hand for a loose, brief shake.
"I'm very glad to see you, Miss Melody," she said timidly. "I'm glad it has been a pretty day."
"Show her her room, Ma, and then perhaps she'd like some tea. City folks, you know, must have their tea."
Geraldine followed her hostess with alacrity as she went up the narrow stairway; glad there was an upstairs; and a room of her own, and a woman to speak to.
She was ushered into a barely furnished chamber; a bowl and pitcher on the small wash-stand seemed to indicate that modern improvements had not penetrated to the Carder farm.
"I s'pose you'll find country livin' a great change for you," said Mrs. Carder, pulling up the window shade. Geraldine wondered how in this beautiful state could have been found such a treeless tract of land. She remembered the threatened fate of the elm. Perhaps there had been other destruction. "My son never seemed to take any interest in puttin' in water here."
The girl met the wrinkled face. The apprehension in the old eyes under Carder's scowl had given place to curiosity.
"I have come to help you," said Geraldine, "I must get used to fewer conveniences."
"It's nice of you to say that," said the old woman, "Rufus don't want you to work much, though."
"But of course I shall," returned the girl quickly. "I'm much better able to work than you are."