"Well, I should think it was quite time," said Alexia, stretching her long arms restfully back of her head. "You've been so awfully slow over it, Clare."
"Yes, I do believe it is," repeated Clare, in a joyous tone.
"And if that old woman is going to stay here all the morning," said Alexia, "I shall just die. 'Twould be too awful for anything, Clare."
"She wouldn't hurt you," said Clare, tying away with redoubled vigor at the delightful prospect of soon having it through; "and if Polly and Ben can stand it, I guess you and I can."
"Well, I'm going to turn my back on her," said Alexia, whirling around so that her light braids flew out, "then I shan't have to see her every minute."
"Yes," Madam Van Ruypen was saying, "I thought I'd bring over a few things that were forgotten for the tree, you know," pointing to its white shrouded outline with her long black glove. "They're out in the carriage, Ben. Will you tell Carson to bring them in?"
"What's she saying? Oh, what's she saying?" cried Alexia, wildly, and whirling about again till her braids flew out the other way like pump handles.
"I thought you didn't want to see her," Clare burst out into a laugh.
"Oh, this is different; she's telling something, and she doesn't sit up like a great, stiff I-don't-know-what," said Alexia. Then she hopped up from her seat and ran over to the old lady's chair.
"Yes, and I have something I'm going to bring over to-night," Madam Van Ruypen was announcing, as Ben and Carson, the coachman, came in, their arms laden with bundles of all shapes and sizes, all carefully wrapped from curious eyes.