“You up there?” she said.
“Yes, maw. What you want?”
“Somebody’s comin’,” said Mrs. Vaiden, lowering her voice to a tone of important mystery.
“I guess not here,” said Lavinia, lightly. She sat down on the top step and smiled at her mother.
“Yes, it is here, too,” retorted Mrs. Vaiden, with some irritation. “If you couldn’t conterdict a body ’t wouldn’t be you! You’re just like your paw!” She paused, and then added: “It’s a man a-foot. He’s comin’ up the path slow, a-stoppin’ to look at the flowers.”
“Maybe it’s the minister,” said the girl, still regarding her mother with a good-natured, teasing smile.
“No, it ain’t the minister, either. As if I didn’t know the minister when I see him! You do aggravate me so! It’s a young fello’, an’ he’s all dressed up. You’ll have to go to the door.”
“Oh, maw!” cried Lavinia, reproachfully. “I just can’t! In this short dress?”
She stood up, with a look of dismay, and began pulling nervously at her fresh gingham skirt. It was short, showing very prettily-arched insteps and delicate ankles.
“Well, you just can, an’ haf to,” said Mrs. Vaiden, shortly. “I’ve told you often enough to put a ruffle on the bottom o’ that dress, an’ I’m glad you’re caught. Mebbe you’ll do’s I tell you after this—”