“Oh, nothing particular. I was only—”
“Never mind, if you don’t want to tell,” said Rhoda, graciously, now that her object was attained. “I wonder what new clothes Madam will give you. A camlet for best, I dare say, and duffel for every day. Don’t you want to know?”
“No, not very much.”
“I should, if I were you. I like to go fine. Not that she’ll give you fine things, you know—not likely. There! put my shoes out to clean, and tuck me up nicely, and then if you like you can go to bed. I shan’t want anything more.”
Phoebe did as she was requested, and then knelt down.
“I vow!” exclaimed her cousin, when she rose. “Do you say your prayers on Sunday nights? I never do. Why, we’ve only just been at it downstairs. And what a time you are! I’m never more than five minutes with mine!”
“I couldn’t say all I want in five minutes,” replied Phoebe.
“Want! why, what do you want?” said Rhoda. “I want nothing. I’ve got to do it—that’s all.”
“Well, I dare say five minutes is enough for that,” was the quiet reply from Phoebe. “But when people get into trouble, then they do want things.”
“Trouble! Oh, you don’t know!” said Rhoda, loftily. “I’ve had heaps of trouble.”