"There is everything to be said in favor of the plan," Madam Flynt swept on, "and nothing against it, so far as I can see. You can manage your home affairs, John and Sarepta, the house and so on, as well here as there; you've only to step across the yard. I need a companion, and so do you."
Kitty opened wide eyes of astonishment.
"Madam Flynt! Has Miss Croly left you?"
"Miss Croly left me? Certainly not. Why should she leave me? Cornelia Croly is as old as I am, or very near it; she needs a companion, too. She grows more set every day of her life. Just move that poker, will you, Kitty? To the left side of the fireplace! Cornelia Croly will always put it at the right; she does it to assert herself; she told me so, in so many words. We both need a young person to keep us from biting each other, Kitty, and you are the person."
At this point, Miss Croly entered the room, beaming welcome. Tall, thin, upright, hard-favored, with the kindest eyes and the most obstinate chin imaginable. Dressed in gray alpaca by day, in purple alpaca by night, with little benefit of fashion; such was Miss Cornelia Croly, Madam Flynt's quondam schoolmate—her companion now these many years of her widowhood. The two made a singular contrast, yet complemented each other oddly. Kitty could never think of one without the other. Corolla and calyx, Dr. Ross used to call them.
Miss Croly had to hear all about Kitty's voyage; the sea had a fascination for her, though she had never ventured upon it.
"A storm! how thrilling! the wonders of the deep!" sighed Miss Croly, all in one breath. "You make it all so real, Kitty. I can hear the roar of the elements and the dash of the breakers—"
As she spoke, Miss Croly had taken up the poker, and after making a dab at the fire, was gently replacing it at the right of the fireplace, when Madam Flynt interrupted her.
"There are no breakers in mid-ocean, Cornelia! And will you kindly leave the poker where it was, on the left side?"
"Excuse me, my dear Clarissa, it is far more convenient on the right side. As attending to the fire is one of my little duties—a very pleasant one, I am sure—it seems not unreasonable for me to have the poker where I can use it. You grant that?"