"Why, every one in the village, all the dear friends and neighbors, want me to come and live with them. Madam Flynt, Judge Peters, Miss Bygoods, the Chanters—and Mr. Mallow"—Kitty broke into a little crow of laughter—"wants me to be his housekeeper and matron! Well! and now you come, with the same dear wish to help me, at the other end. And, oh!" Kitty, jumping up, clapped her hands and actually began to dance, "Don't you see, Aunt Johanna, here is my answer to them all. They were all so kind, and so urgent, I didn't know what to say to them, though of course nothing would have induced me to leave my dear darling home. But now, don't you see, I can't go to any of them, because of——"
"Because of bedridden aunt! Precisely. Johanna ex machina. I learned my Latin of Mr. Bygood, my dear; he taught at the Academy when I was a girl. Well! so that is all settled. They all wanted my little niece, eh? And I've stolen a march on 'em. Ha! ha! and now, Kitty, I should like to see my room and unpack a bit. I thought possibly, my dear, you might spare me the Red Indian room, which used to be mine, but I can sleep anywhere."
"It is all ready for you!" cried Kitty joyously. "Oh, Aunt Johanna, you are a dear, and you really belong, and I am so happy!"
The last band snapped from Kitty's heart, and she led the way joyously upstairs.
CHAPTER VII
a symposium
It was Wednesday, Ladies' Night at the Mallow House. For many years, Mrs. Wibird and Melissa, and the Misses Bygood had supped with Mr. Mallow on Wednesday evening. It was the "help's" evening out, and the boarders understood that they must sup elsewhere that night. Mr. Mallow invariably cooked the supper, the Wibirds assisting, Mrs. Wibird and Melissa eagerly, Wilson grudgingly. After the delightful little meal, always perfectly cooked and served, Mr. Mallow would take off his coat, roll up his immaculate shirtsleeves, and wash the dishes, the ladies wiping them daintily. Other neighbors would often drop in after supper; it was a pleasant and friendly occasion.
Supper was over now, the dishes washed and put away, and the company gathered in Mr. Mallow's sitting room, a cheerful apartment, with a general aspect of chenille and "tidies," further brightened by a crackling wood fire on the hearth. They were hemming what Mr. Mallow called "wipers," more generally known as dish or glass towels. Mr. Mallow sat in the middle, a large basket balanced on his knees. He sewed slowly and carefully, using a long thread, which Melissa threaded for him, as he was wont to explain that "he was no camel, and could not go through a needle's eye." This was a wonderful joke, and never failed to send a ripple of genteel mirth through the assembled ladies. Mrs. Wibird and Melissa worked with bird-like, darting motions, swift but irregular, dropping their work whenever they spoke, which was very often. The Misses Bygood worked even more swiftly, and with perfect steadiness and grace.
"This is an elegant piece of goods, Marsh!" said Mrs. Wibird. "Better than the last, 'pears to me."