“Maybe she don’t want to be cheered up,” I said. “Maybe she enjoys being gloomy like Aunt Cal!”
“Just the same I’m going to suggest it,” returned Eve. “’Twon’t do any harm to try.”
“Well you’d better wait till tomorrow anyway,” I said. “I don’t think she’s in a very auspicious mood today. I guess maybe her trip to Millport yesterday had a bad effect on her.”
I was making the bed next morning when Eve came racing up the stairs. “I’ve done it!” she said, her eyes dancing. “I asked her wouldn’t she like to have us go out and inquire about Mrs. Viner as it was such a lovely cool morning and we’d enjoy the trip.”
“Well?”
“Well, she was a little surprised. Guess she suspects some hidden motive but she did admit that she’d like to know how Mrs. V. is getting along. So she finally agreed and said she’d send her a bottle of dandelion wine. She lives in the big stone house next the feed store and we’re not to stay more than ten minutes and not to talk any nonsense.”
“The shorter, the better for me,” I said. “Invalids give me the jitters! Make me feel sorta creepy like.”
“Sandy, I’m ashamed of you! And you a missionary’s daughter!”
“What’s that got to do with it? Besides you can’t pretend that your own—er—motives are purely hu—what d’you call it?”
“Humanitarian, you mean. Well, what if they’re not! I guess,” she added sagely, “hardly anybody’s are when you come right down to it!”