“No, you must not.—Here, Teddy, bring in a good big armful of wood; and don’t you never let Aunt Hulda bring another stick.”
Teddy had been standing by the window, gazing, in open-mouthed astonishment, at Becky’s proceedings. He roused himself at her sharp call, and obeyed.
“Guess Becky’s a little out of head,” he soliloquized, in the woodshed. “Got too much water on the brain in the dam.”
Supper finished, Becky washed the dishes, cleared away, and swept the kitchen, under the direction of Aunt Hulda, and then insisted on making bread, after careful directions from the mistress. All this was faithfully reported to Mrs. Sleeper by Aunt Hulda.
“I tell you, Delia, there’s the making of a smart woman in that girl; and it’s coming out fast.”
When bed time came, Becky went in to her mother with a sad face. The idea that she had caused her mother’s illness was so strong upon her, that it could not be easily dissipated. Perhaps it was better so, if it only strengthened her in her determination to achieve success in the new life.
“How do you feel to-night, mother?” said Becky choking down a sob, and laying her hand on her mother’s head, with a caress.
“Happy, Becky, very happy,” said the mother, with a smile. “The light step of a little woman about the house has made me wonderfully contented.”
The “little woman” blushed, then said, with a smile she found it hard to muster,—
“Sick people should not listen. But I’m glad it made you happy, mother. Shall I stay with you to-night?”