Mrs. B. Good-bye, Martha.
Mrs. B. (picking up papers and rearranging room). I suppose Martha thought it would have been absolutely impossible for me to have packed that box by myself. Well, thank goodness it’s done, and Amelia’s box is done, and I’m about done, too. (Seats herself wearily.)
(Enter Mildred, swinging skates in one hand.)
Mildred. Well, mother, you look about fagged out. (goes over to her mother, and smoothes her forehead). Is the rummage sale over?
Mrs. B. Rummage sale? We were packing the missionary box.
Mildred. (smiling). I hope the gifts will be appreciated. I wish I were to get Miss Loomis’ hat, and Mrs. Hodges’ dress, and a few other adornments.
Mrs. B. (irritably). Mildred, I am really too tired to stand any nonsense. I have your Aunt Amelia’s box all ready, and I’ve worried over that, for I know whatever I send will be criticised.
Mildred. (continuing to smooth her mother’s hair). Well, I don’t see how they could possibly find fault with those presents. Dad is always so liberal about that box, but I know Aunt Amelia always finds faults with every last thing we send. I should think though she would be pleased with the waist I embroidered for her, and those lovely handkerchiefs.
Mrs. B. She won’t though.