“That’s powerful good, Miss Liza. Your folks was always great hands for helping other folks out and you’re a chip from the old block. I’ll be relieved a heap if you’ll sort of look after her.”
It was evident that the child’s mother was quite as relieved as Lemuel himself.
It was long after the dinner hour when Eliza set forth with Rose. Mrs. Houston had come over to “set” for a spell and promised to see to the patient until the evening when some one else would relieve her.
Beth was watching at the window. When she saw Eliza and Rose coming, she ran from the house and down to the gate to meet them. She flung her arms about Adee’s neck and then hugged Rose who stood as stiff and irresponsive as an iron post.
“I’m dreadful glad, Rose. Now, we can play. Helen and I made about a million hats. They’re up in the attic. We’ll play millinery store.”
“Run along and play until I call you to supper. We’ll have it early. Beth has had only a bowl of milk since breakfast. Run along; I’ll call you.”
They needed no encouragement. Eliza went to the kitchen and began her preparation. Meanwhile the girls had examined the hats in the attic and commented on the grace and elegance of several. Rose’s tongue was going clickety-clack. She talked more freely when her elders were not present.
“Mrs. Kilgore got a new hat before the church supper. She thought she wouldn’t get it at first. It cost an awful lot,” and so on and so on, petty details of other people’s affairs which she had heard her elders discuss, and which was really no business of hers, or theirs either.
“Let’s play store. You be selling hats and I’ll be the Queen of Sheba come to buy,” suggested Beth. She had learned this particular “stunt” from Helen Reed who would have no dealings with anybody but royalty when she played make-believe.
“I’ll have a train. This one is too short and don’t rustle.” Beth proceeded to pin a half of a curtain to the tail of her gown. Then she pranced forward where the gable was highest and trailed her gown after her.