“I shall send them tonight, surely,” said Madame Bettina, getting to work in good earnest, for it is not every dressmaker that can make five bathing-suits in one day. She cut here and snipped there, and ran her machine at a great rate.
“Betsey!” called Mother above all the noise. “Come to the head of the stairs a minute.”
Betsey stopped her noise obediently and opened the door.
“Tom and I are going to Boston at ten o’clock. Norah will take care of you. And you can ask Mary to come over to play this afternoon, if you want to.”
“I don’t need Mary, Mother!” cried Betsey laughing. “You see with Mrs. Delight’s company I have my hands full already.”
“Very well,” said Mother laughing too. “Now what do you want me to bring you? I’m going to take your gold thimble in to be straightened where the chair rocked on it.” She held up the tiny blue box.
“O Mother dear! If you’ll only take the thimble in something else, and give me that thimble box, you don’t have to bring me one thing.”
“What do you want it for?” asked Mother in a puzzled tone.
“A camera. It’s just the size. I’ll cover it with black oilcloth and make a little, black carrying case just to fit, and Mrs. Delight can take it to the beach.”
“Here is your camera, then,” laughed Mother, tossing it up the stairs into Betsey’s two hands.