“But what am I to do?” desperately.
“Try putting a dark covering over the windows.”
“I have, but it’s just no use, for I can’t get it pitch dark to save me.”
“And to think that barely forty-eight hours ago I was congratulating myself that every closet in the house could be properly aired. Alas! how do our recent acquisitions alter our views?”
“Now, moddie, don’t laugh, but stop teasing me, and just think as hard as ever you can how I am to find a dark place.”
Mrs. Rockwood thought for a few moments, and then said:
“I have it! Mary’s pot-closet, under the back stairs; that is as dark as a pocket, I’m sure.”
“There! I knew you’d find a way; you always do. Just the very place, and now I’m going straight down to fix it. Good-bye,” and, kissing her mother, away she flew.