“I’m glad you are having a cedar closet,” said Margaret. “Mother got along with a cedar chest for a great many years, but she has always longed for a cedar closet. She had one built this summer.”
“We have both,” said Dorothy. “The chest is going up in the attic and the closet is on the bedroom floor.”
“The thing that pleases me most in the closet line,” said Ethel Brown, who is a good cook, “is the pastry closet just off the kitchen. The carpenter told me there was a refrigerating pipe running around it so that it would always be cool, and there was to be a plate glass shelf on which the pastry could be rolled out.”
“You certainly have the latest wrinkles,” exclaimed Mrs. Morton admiringly. “I have never seen that arrangement in real life. I thought it only existed in large hotels or the women’s magazines!”
“There are lots of other little comforts in our house,” laughed Dorothy, “and there are two or three more kinds of closets if we count bookcases that have doors and cupboards to keep games in.”
“They’re every one modern and useful except that stepmother squeezer,” said Miss Graham, rising to take leave. “That sounds like some invention of the Middle Ages when people used to torture each other to death so cheerfully.”
“O, I wouldn’t torture her,” protested Ethel Blue.
“Unless she were a really truly fairy story bad one,” Miss Daisy insisted. “Could you resist that?”
She held Ethel Blue’s eyes for just a second with her smiling gaze that was graven down in the depths of her warm brown ones.
“I wouldn’t really hurt her,” Ethel Blue repeated, and wondered why she felt as if she had been taken seriously.