“But you told us your children were all boys,” Amy put in quickly.
“Aw, but a time like this I wish’t I had a daughter,” declared the woman, gazing at Henrietta almost tenderly. “What a sweet little colleen she might be if she had some flesh on her bones and something besides freckles to color her face. Yes, yes!”
“I am awfully glad, Mrs. Foley,” said Jessie quickly, “to see how much you approve of what we have tried to do for Henrietta. So I am bold enough to ask you to let us take her up to my house for over night. Momsy wants to see her in these new clothes, and——”
“Well, if Mrs. Momsy—Or is it Mr. Momsy, I dunno?”
“Why, Momsy is my mother!”
“The like o’ that now! And she lets you call her out o’ name? Well, there is no understanding you rich folks. Ha! So you want to take little Hen away from me?”
“Only for over night. It would be a little vacation for her, you know.”
Mrs. Foley looked back into the kitchen and shook her head. “By the looks o’ things,” she said, “she’s been having a vacation right here. Well, she’ll be no good for a while anyway, I can see that. Why, she can’t much more than speak with them glad rags on her.”
“Come on,” said Henrietta, and walked down the steps, heading toward the lake.
Amy burst into laughter again, and even Mrs. Foley began to grin.