But the latch didn’t fly up, and no one coming, Phronsie at last drew a long breath. “The little girl doesn’t come, dear Mr. Beebe,” she said in a tired voice.
“Well, I declare,” Mrs. Beebe’s voice broke in upon them. “I declare, how busy you all be! An’ dinner’ll be ready in ten minutes: I’ve come to get th’ childern to wash their hands an’ faces.”
“Oh, supposing the little girl should come, dear Mr. Beebe,” Phronsie clutched his plump hand and held back as old Mrs. Beebe waddled across the little shop.
“I guess she ain’t a-comin’ till aft’noon,” said the old gentleman, soothingly, and just then the big iron latch clicked and the green door was thrown open.
“I’ve come,” said a woman, hurrying in, a black crocheted bag dangling from her arm, “to see if you’ve got a pair of shoes to fit my little girl. Oh, how do you do, Mis’ Beebe?”
Phronsie screamed right out, “Oh, she’s come—she’s come!” and pulled the little shopkeeper’s hand as hard as she could.
“So she has,” said old Mr. Beebe, every bit as much excited. “Yes, indeed, Mis’ Phipps, I’ve got a splendid fit. Walk right in an’ set down.” He waved her over toward the settee and the little wooden chair close to it. “An’ you come along with me, Phronsie, an’ we’ll pick out some to suit this little girl.”
Everything now settling down to business, old Mrs. Beebe turned to Dave. “Well, well, an’ what has Pa set you to doin’?” she cried, bending over him and his snarl of shoe-strings. “I declare, I never see sech a boy; you’re pickin’ out those dreadful things jest splendid. Yes, this is Mis’ Pepper’s boy, Mis’ Phipps, that lives in the Little Brown House, an’ that’s the other one,” nodding over to Joel, now down on his knees, prowling under the old chintz valance.
“And that’s Phronsie,” added David, afraid she would be forgotten and left out in the enumeration, and laying down his strings long enough to point to her over with the old gentleman.
“Is that so?” said the customer, regarding him with great interest. “An’ how is your Ma?” turning off from the small girl on the little wooden chair, who was following Phronsie and the little shopkeeper with her intent eyes. And without waiting for a reply, her gaze roved over to Joel and at last switched off to Phronsie and the little shopkeeper.