Sally. Naw! She won't hurt anything. I've told her I'd skin her if she did.
Catherine. Are her hands clean? You'd better give them a wash, anyhow.
[Tibbie drops her eyes, a little mortified.
Sally. All right. I'll wash 'em.
Catherine. Did she scrape her boots thoroughly on the mat before she came up?
Sally. I looked after all that, Miss Catherine. Just you go along with an easy mind.
Catherine. Well, I'm off. I won't be long gone. Why don't you give her a piece of that cake? It's cut. But don't let her make any crumbs. Here, give me your things. I'll take 'em down to the kitchen. Good-by, little girl. I guess you never was in a house like this before. Good-by, Sal. Is my hat on straight? [Exit with coats.]
Sally. She's particular, ain't she?
Tibbie. I'd just as soon wash them again, but they're clean. I thought you said she was gone off to a party, and going to be gone till real late.
Sally [plumps down to contort herself in comfort]. Law! She thought it was Mis' Darling herself! Law! Law! [Tibbie laughs, too, but less heartily.] Now what'll we do first? Do you want the treat right off?