"Oh, I have seen you going in and out. I can't move about easily, so when I grow tired of reading or sewing I look out of the window."
It was astonishing how much at home they felt. Bess and Louise sat together in a big chair chattering away as if they had known Miss Brown all their lives. When she asked about the telephone, even Ikey had a word to say as they grew merry over the story of their difficulties.
As they were leaving, Bess said demurely, "Miss Brown, I think we ought to tell you that we have been playing in your garden. We didn't mean to do any harm, but Aunt Zélie says it wasn't respecting other people's property."
"My dear children, I wish you would come often and play in my garden," was the hospitable reply.
"I am afraid your Mary wouldn't like it," said Louise; adding quickly, "and we'd rather come inside now and see you."
"Thank you, I hope you will come, and you must excuse poor Mary; she is not so ill-natured as she seems."
"Aunt Zélie," said Carl that evening as they were relating the day's adventures, "Miss Brown is tiptop, she wasn't a bit mad. There is something about her like you."
"Why, Carl! Her hair is white, and she is not nearly so pretty," cried Louise.
"Well, goosie, I didn't say she looked like her, did I?"
"She is very nice at any rate, and has lots of things to show us some time—things she had when she was a little girl. We may go to see her again, mayn't we, Auntie?" Bess asked.