"Surely you wouldn't have denied the houseless family a shelter?" Vinnie replied. "That would have seemed too bad, with those great chambers unoccupied. As for the library,"—Vinnie smiled, for the unfurnished room called by that choice name had nothing in it but a fireplace,—"I don't think any harm can happen to that."
Vinnie had a plan regarding the Peakslow children, which she laid before Mrs. Peakslow as soon as the new inmates were fairly settled in the house.
"Since my sister and the baby have been so much better, I have begun a little school, with only two scholars,—Cecie and Lilian. Wouldn't your children like to join it? I think it would be pleasant."
"Whuther they would or not, I'd like to have 'em," replied Mrs. Peakslow, gratefully. "The chances for schoolin' is dreffle slim in this country; we've no school-house within nigh two mile. But how shall I pay ye?"
"You needn't mind about that."
"Yes, I shall mind too. We must do somethin' for you in return."
"Well, then," said Vinnie, "if you like, you may let one of the girls help a little in my sister's kitchen, to make up for the time I spend with them."
"I'll do it, sartin! You shall have Lyddy. She's a good smart hand at housework, and you may git all out of her you can."
So it was arranged. The little school of two was increased to five; the "parlor"—used only to store grain in hitherto—was turned into a school-room; and Lyddy worked in Mrs. Betterson's kitchen.
"Lavinia dear, you are an extraordinary girl!" said Caroline. "It seems the greatest miracle of all to see one of the Peakslows washing our dishes!"