"And you don't allow her to beguile you, do you?" Catherine laughed at the self-righteousness in Letty's strut back to the bed.
"You can't," said Miss Kelly, "or they run all over you."
"What runs over you?" demanded Marian.
"Mice!" Letty's shriek was almost in Catherine's ear, as she plumped down in her mother's lap. "Mice!" and she wiggled in laughter. "Free blind mice."
"Isn't she silly!" But Marian giggled, too. "Who's that?" The hall door sounded on its hinges. "Daddy!" Her rush halted at the door. "Oh, I thought you were my Daddy!"
"Did you, now?" Mrs. O'Lay's red face hung a moment at the door, a genial full moon. "Well, I ain't. But you'd best be glad I ain't, for it's little dinner he'd be getting for you."
Marian stuck a pink triangle of tongue after her as she disappeared, clumping down the hall.
"She's awful fat, isn't she, Muvver?" She scuffled her feet slowly to the edge of the bed. "An' she has a funny smell. I don't know what she smells of, but she does."
"Ashes and floor oil," said Catherine. She hadn't noticed it, consciously. She caught Miss Kelly's surprised, disapproving glance. "We'll have to lengthen that dress, Marian," she concealed her amusement, and her free hand pulled at the edge of the chambray dress. "Can't pull it over your knees, can we?"