Thanksgiving was a perfect day, cold, to be sure, but crisp, sunny, an occasional icicle forming over the porch in the middle of the day. The big turkey dinner was at two o’clock, breakfast at a late hour beforehand. It was so “delicious,” Ann said, “not to have to get up for lessons.” Her mother, too, was tired, and had many things, practical and otherwise, to talk over with her daughter. They were invited to sit at Miss Tudor’s table for dinner. This was an honor, but Ann would have enjoyed it far better with the girls at her own table. However, she had her mother and that was sufficient. The dinner was worthy of the day, the girls in high spirits, for there were to be some winter sports and a sled ride later in the day.
For the sports Ann did not care now. She would have plenty of that sort of thing at Christmas time. These days with Mother were a welcome rest Ann was well, but had not realized how tired she was until the necessity for keeping on was over. She took a long nap in the afternoon, while her mother, after a short one, investigated the condition of Ann’s clothes and was sitting with her thimble on, sewing, when Ann wakened.
“Isn’t that good, to see you with your thimble on ‘as of yore,’” Ann said sleepily, as she still lay on the couch where she had fallen asleep.
Mrs. Sterling looked up and smiled. “You were sleeping so soundly that I did not think I would waken you by looking over things.”
“It is good of you. I neglect my clothes shamefully, I know.”
“I am well aware, daughter, that you have other important things to do.”
“Tell me some more about Grandmother and everybody,” Ann suggested. “Did you say that Maury calls you his ‘long-lost’ aunt?”
“Yes. Maurice and I are great friends. By the way, he is not smoking those miserable cigarettes now, says that he hears they are bad for brains and he has to get his lessons this year.” Mrs. Sterling smiled in amused remembrance. “He was out of sorts about something when he came home, just before I left, but whatever it was seemed to be fixed up with his father.”
“Do you like Maury better than Cliff, Mother?”