“Well! well! I feel just as if I had been to meeting,” said Miss Bethia.
“Well done, Davie!” said Jem. “Isn’t our Davie a smart boy, Aunt Bethia? I wish Frank could have heard that.”
“Yes, so I told papa,” said David, gravely.
“It is a great responsibility to have such privileges as you have, boys—” began Miss Bethia.
“As Davie has, you mean, Miss Bethia,” said Jem. “He goes with papa almost always—”
“And as you have, too. Take care that you don’t neglect them, so that they may not rise up in judgment against you some day—”
But Miss Bethia was obliged to interrupt herself to shake hands with Violet, who came in with her little brother and sister. Jem laughed at the blank look in his sister’s face.
“Miss Bethia has commenced your ironing for you,” said he.
“Yes—I see. You shouldn’t have troubled yourself about it, Miss Bethia.”
“I guess I know pretty well by this time what I should do, and what I should let alone,” said Miss Bethia, sharply, not pleased with the look on Violet’s face, or the heartiness of her greeting. “It was your mother I was thinking of. I expect the heft of Debby’s work will fall on her.”