"Don't, Esther! Do let her tell us what is coming. You know she always tells right when she wrings her hands. Go on, Auntie—"
"Jane, be quiet! I'll tell you why afterwards. Auntie dear, sit down."
'Aunt Amy's hands relaxed and the strange look faded. "It's nothing," she said. "It's gone! I must be more careful. Do not mention it to your mother, children. She might think me queer again, and I am not at all queer any more. You have noticed that I'm not, haven't you, Esther? I'll do anything you say, my dear."
"Then lie out in the hammock while I get supper. The berries are all ready. Then we'll all get dressed. Jane may wear one of her new frocks and you shall wear your grey voile. It will be quite a party."
"Will there be ice cream? Because if there isn't I don't want to get dressed," sighed Jane. "My new things don't fit. They look like bags."
"It will soon be holidays and then I'll fix them for you."
Jane laid a childish cheek to her sister's hand.
"Nice Esther," she cooed. "I'm sorry I called you a pig." Then, in a change of tone as they left Aunt Amy resting in the hammock, "Esther, why is Auntie so afraid of mother lately? She says such queer things I don't know what she means."
"Neither do I, dear. But I think it is just a passing fancy. She was very much hurt about the ring being sold. When she gets it back she will forget about it."
"She looks at mother as if she hates her."