"Yo' sho' do give proper weight to us-all." Sally often told him. "Things do las' mor'n one could expect, fo' de money."
"I ain't goin' to run the risk of any pesky government investigation," Greeley replied. "Better be on the safe side, I reckon."
And now Cynthia again remarked to the pretty May morning:
"I feel as if something was going to happen 'long o' me."
Then she got up and made her simple toilet. The shining braids were wound coronet-style about the shapely head, and some moments were devoted to the choice of a gown. There were three hanging on nails behind the door leading to the hall; a checked gingham, brown, ugly and serviceable; a faded pink chambray, and a new, dull blue linen. This last was a gift from Marcia Lowe. It was the longest, most modern garment Cynthia possessed, and the colour filled her awakening artistic sense with delight.
"This one!" she murmured, and smiled at her own senseless extravagance.
"I reckon it's right silly," she said; "but it's mighty good fun to wear your Sunday frock on a Thursday!"
Then arrayed and glowing with pride Cynthia contemplated herself in her tiny mirror.
"If something happens 'long o' me," she nodded in friendly fashion into the glass, "it will find me ready."
After breakfast she meant to go to Trouble Neck and help Marcia Lowe with her "school." The little doctor's school was the newest and most exciting innovation in The Hollow. The student list was elastic and all embracing. Every department of life was taught, as and how it were possible. The timid, blighted little folks were lured to the cabin by all means at Miss Lowe's command and fed such crumbs as their poor wits could comprehend.