"But this would be your own work!" said Miss Linn, trying to arouse the housewifely instinct in the fraud's breast. "See, it would look so." And Miss Linn arranged the squares of calico in the right relations with the squares of cloth.
"Yes—like a checker-board," said Gay, not very enthusiastically.
"Don't you think it is very nice?" said Miss Linn.
"It wouldn't be half bad for camping; and it might do for a sail if a fellow was hard up, though I guess the wind would rip it to smithereens in a little while."
Miss Linn was in despair. Was there ever such a girl? Or one who used such peculiar expressions? The poor lady was not quite certain that she was listening to slang, but she had a suspicion that she was. "Rip" and "Smithereens" sounded like it.
"The doctor's wife is on the porch, mem," announced Margery at the door.
"Say that I will be right out," said Miss Linn.
"Good," thought Gay. "I shall get out of this mess!"
