"But she must not call the little girl a servant, Katie," said Aunt Cordelia. "I won't have her hurting the child's feelings, whatever she is."
"I call her Minnie," said Emmy Lou, bewildered.
"Certainly you do," said Aunt Cordelia, and kissed her.
Aunt Louise defended Aunt Katie. "While the child is hardly to be held responsible, she has ways, as well as Sister, we certainly do not want Emmy Lou to imitate."
Ways? Minnie? Marvelous, inexhaustible Minnie? Certainly she has ways, ways that draw one, that hold one. Were Aunt Louise and Aunt Katie casting doubts on Minnie? As they had on Sister? Emmy Lou in cloak and hood looked to Aunt Cordelia for corroboration.
Aunt Cordelia looked worried, "Just as she is beginning to be a little happier, I wish, Louise, you and Katie could let the child alone."
"But Minnie?" Emmy Lou wanted to know.
"Yes, I suppose so. Run along out, now, and play."
A sunny winter day it was as Emmy Lou went, a day to rejoice in, could one at four put the feelings into thought, except that Izzy at his gate in his stout coat and his fur cap is only mildly glad to see her. Izzy is six years old. Usually kind, and as patient to catch her point as to help her to his, just now he is engrossed with looking down the street.
Without turning, he does, however, confide in her. "Minnie has just gone by to the grocery!"