"Pore child, you hain't got ary grain of chance to be young and gayly, like you ought, with your maw dead and gone, and your paw's house and all that mess of young-uns on your hands. Hit's a pure shame for a young gal to be burdened down that way."
"Oh, no, Aunt Ailsie," cried Lethie, in warm protest; "hit is my heart's delight to do for the young-uns sence maw died; I love them so good, and they love me so good, and little Maddy here is the sweetest babe ever was borned, and I can't stand to have him out of my sight."
Aunt Ailsie shook her head. "Hit hain't right," she insisted; "your paw ought to get him a good woman, that would treat the young-uns kind, and give you a chance to be young and happy."
"But I'm happy now," declared Lethie; "seems like I hain't had nothing but happiness sence these women come in—just all manner of good times. And paw says I am larning to cook so fine; and Charlie hain't been drunk nary time sence the Fourth of July, and Fulty behaving so civil—why, hit seems very near like heaven, and I just love all them women to death for coming, and this here new one most of all, because she's the smilingest and prettiest."
"You're a mighty good little gal; the Lord'll bless you for hit!"
Here the game broke up, and Fult came over to get Lethie for the next one.
"You go right on now, and don't be so back'ard," insisted Aunt Ailsie. "I'll tend the least one for you."
At her urging, Lethie went. But Isabel was playing just opposite, with Charlie as her partner; and every minute Lethie realized how much longer her own skirt was in the back than in the front, how clumsy her shoes were, how much too big and baggy her waist, and before long she said to Fult: "I hain't feeling good; you'll have to get you another pardner,"—and slipped out of the ring, shortly afterward going down the hill, with little Madison in arms, as Aunt Ailsie went.
Next morning, when Fult came across the street as usual to take her to the women's Sunday School, Lethie made an excuse not to go; and, after starting off all the children but little Madison, she went downstairs into her father's store and hunted among the shelves for some white goods like Isabel's dress. But, though there were several bolts of calicoes and ginghams, there was nothing in the way of white stuff save a piece of "bleached factory" (white domestic). From this she cut enough for a dress for herself and one for little Madison; then, hastening back upstairs, went to work with awkward little hands to try to cut and fit them, attempting to make her own as much like Isabel's as possible.
Every morning of the week following she went up the hill with Charlotta and Ruby Fallon, to the cooking classes, her little brother always on her arm; but she did not go to the play-parties in the afternoons, keeping this precious time and privacy for work on her white dress and Madison's. Saturday she finished both, the result, so far as her own was concerned, being pathetic; and Sunday she dressed herself and the baby in them, and waited for Fult to come for her again.