Nancy sat down with her knitting-work, but she was not contented. It seemed to her that she must have those forty-two cents. After tea she begged again for permission to go to Aunt Lucretia's. "It's real nice and cool out now, mother," she pleaded.
"I don't care how cool it is," said her mother, "you can't go. I don't see what has got into you."
But the next morning Nancy was really sent over to Aunt Lucretia's on an errand. She did the errand, then she stood waiting.
"Did your mother want anything else?" asked Aunt Lucretia.
"No, ma'am."
"Well, I guess you had better run home then. It's baking day, and maybe you can help your mother some. You'd ought to help her all you can, you're getting to be a big girl. I used to do a whole week's baking before I was your age."
"Aunt Lucretia!"
"What say?"
"Have you—got that—bill—changed yet?"
"No, I haven't. You mustn't tease. I'm going down to the store in a day or two, and then you can have it."