"Who knows," said Grandmother Hollister, "but when you're grown up, you'll have a large house, and it may be called 'The Kip Day Nursery' and each of you girls here may be lady managers. They all grow from small beginnings. And, Dorothy, you may put me down for ten dollars," said Mrs. Hollister.
"Oh, say, you're a thoroughbred, you are," and the girl kissed her impulsively several times.
Now Grandmother Hollister had been saving that particular ten for a new lace scarf. It had been sent to her on her birthday by her son John, but she couldn't resist giving it. She could do without the scarf, and ten dollars would buy a couple or more warm rugs for the babies to sit on, for little ones like to sit on the floor.
The girls stayed in her room and chatted until dusk. They talked as freely before the old lady as before one another.
That evening Ethel asked her grandmother if there wasn't some way by which she could get away that summer and go to visit Cousin Kate.
"I'll think it over," replied Grandmother; "you certainly need the country. You look thin and peaked."
"Yes, and Mamma will take me to Newport or Narragansett, and I hate it. Why, it's just like New York. You meet the very same people and I never cared for the water as I care for inland or mountains. Do think out a way, Grandmamma. You always manage to do everything just right."
"I'll try," replied Mrs. Hollister.