Afterwards Pat told Sheila that one thing she always liked about Aunt Pen was that she treated a person as though that person knew something!
And Pat never dreamed that it was not her own mental processes that, after a few words, arrived at the conclusion that she and Renée must content themselves with just trying to do what they were qualified to do!
"Renée is too young to be employed even for any part of a day in a store--we have a law that forbids it! And you, Pat, could scarcely sell enough Beauty Packages in what spare time you have to replace the shoe leather you'd wear out!"
"But what will we do?" cried Pat, humble now.
Aunt Pen thought for a long time. Pat's earnestness was a very precious thing--she must guard it!
Suddenly she clapped her hands with the girlishness that made her such an understanding companion.
"I have a brilliant idea! You remember the box of apples that came last week from my farm? We must have at least fifty bushels of them! My farmer said he was going to take them to market next week. Instead, you and Renée may go around and take orders! You can sell them for a dollar and seventy-five cents a bushel--even then it'll be under the grocer's price--and you will pay the farmer a dollar and a half, which is all he'd get wholesale, anyway."
"Then we'll make a quarter a bushel?"
"Yes. If you sell the whole lot, you'll have twelve dollars and a half to divide between you, besides lots of exercise and some experience! And you can take orders for potatoes, too, up to twenty bushels."
"Oh, great!" cried Pat. She danced around Indian-fashion. "May we begin this afternoon? And may I take some of the apples that came here around in a basket to show people?"