"She is here with me," went on Phil, low and rapidly. "It means a good deal, you know. I hope you will be very nice to her."
Kathleen, alertly comprehending, rose from the hammock and moved past her mother and around to where Eliza stood by the steps, schooling herself.
"You can't get out of a barrel what ain't in it," she reflected. "'Tain't any use tappin' a barrel o' vinegar and bein' mad 'cause maple syrup don't come out."
"You scarcely spoke to me this morning," said Kathleen pleasantly, "you were so glad to see Mr. Sidney."
Eliza shook hands awkwardly. Kathleen Fabian seemed even to her prejudice to ring true. "She don't inherit vinegar," thought Eliza. "I don't know why I shouldn't give her the benefit o' the doubt. Maybe she is maple clear through."
Mrs. Fabian now came in stately fashion around the corner into view. Her eyes caught sight of the barrel and glistened. It was almost impossible to believe that—
"How do you do, Eliza?" she said, in mellifluous tones. "Mr. Sidney tells me you wish to see me—"
"Yes, about this barrel," interrupted Eliza, with nervous haste. "It's some o' the things Mrs. Ballard left me that I thought you'd enjoy havin'. It's her silver and china, just as I packed 'em in New York. I haven't taken out anything."
"Why, really, Eliza, do you know, I appreciate that very much," said Mrs. Fabian graciously, "and I shall enjoy them far more here than I could in New York. I—"
"Yes,'m," said Eliza, "I've got to hurry back to get supper. We have a real early tea."