“What’s that? Who’s out thar?� queried Betty Bess, sharply.
“I reckon you hearn dat old dominecky hen a-squawkin’,� said Louviny, bringing her chair down with a thump.
Patsy, followed by Anne, came out of the thicket and went to the door.
“Howdy, Aunt Louviny,� said Patsy. “Lincum said you were mighty bad off with a misery in your back, and so mother asked us to come to see you. But we ought to have waited till you had on one of your six silk dresses.�
She laughed, but the woman looked confused—frightened, Anne would have said, if that had not been too absurd a thought.
“Wh-what—what you mean, Miss Patsy?� Louviny stammered. “What—what is you talkin’ ’bout?�
“About what I heard you say,� responded Patsy.
“You—you ain’t hear me say nothin’—nothin’ much,� Louviny said defensively.
“Oh! yes, I did. I heard you say you were tired working like a mule in a treadmill, and you are going to have six silk dresses and a rocking-chair,� said Patsy, laughing.
Louviny, still confused, looked relieved. “Shuh, Miss Patsy! You mustn’t mind my foolishness. I was just talkin’ ’bout what I would do, if I had all them things.�