"Blackberries?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Aunt Lucretia stared reflectively at Nancy. "Do you suppose your mother would be willing? The sun's pretty hot."
"Yes, ma'am. I know she wouldn't care."
"Well, I do want two quarts of blackberries dreadfully, and there 'ain't a boy been along. I'm going to have the minister and his wife to tea to-night, and I want to have blackberry shortcake. Do you suppose you could pick me two quarts before four o'clock this afternoon?"
"Yes, ma'am. I know where they're real thick."
"Well," said Aunt Lucretia, "you can go home and ask your mother, and if she's willing, you can go and pick them. Mind you keep out of the sun all you can. I'll give you seven cents a quart; that's a cent more than the boys ask."
"Don't you want more'n two quarts, Aunt Lucretia?" asked Nancy, timidly.
"I guess two quarts will be about all you'll want to pick," returned Aunt Lucretia, grimly.
"No, ma'am; it won't."