“I am glad to have such capable help,” she said, observing Jack in the next room.
“’Eh?” returned Mrs. Harris, looking up from her dustpan. “Wish I could say the same! But never mind, you’ll learn in time, I dare say. O’ course you’ve ben in school an’ can’t be expected to know much yet.”
Barbara heard a chuckle and subdued applause from the next room.
“Who’s that?” inquired Mrs. Harris, abruptly. “Oh, it’s your brother. I was lookin’ for ’im. What’s ’is name? Jack? Well, Jack, you jest take these rugs out to the back yard an’ beat ’em a little. They need it.”
Jack advanced, hesitating. “I don’t know how to beat rugs,” he muttered.
“Well, I’ll show you,” said Mrs. Harris, serenely. “Lend a hand with this big one.”
Barbara surveyed with joy the sullen droop of Jack’s back, as he followed his instructor down the hall.
“Let well enough alone,” she called impersonally.