“Quiet!” said Aunt Helen.
“That’s right, Aunt Helen, stand up for me a little,” said the dimpling Isabel. Aunt Helen was making mince for the Christmas pies and stood at the stove stirring her savory mixture. She smiled in her demure way and stirred in a few more raisins.
“Going to have any pumpkin pies, Aunt Helen?” inquired Will.
“We always have them, you know,” replied his aunt.
“Tell us if there are any plans for a good time this week,” said Isabel, looking at her brothers. “Please watch this cocoa a minute, Virgie. I have to get some more milk.”
“We have only been here two or three days ourselves,” said Will.
“Don’t tease your little sister,” said Milton. “Tell her what we are going to do.” By this time the breakfast was nearly enough ready for the young people to sit down, a progressive breakfast, as Isabel said.
“What is it?” asked Isabel as she passed the cream.
“The boys are going to get up an old-fashioned sled party, going out to Effie Smith’s, in the country, Virginia.”
“How can you with the roads as they are?”