When she had got rid of him Tish was her usual cool and dignified self. She offered no explanation and we asked for none. And for a month or so nothing happened. Tish distributed her usual list of improving books at the Sunday-school Christmas treat, and we packed our customary baskets for the poor. On Christmas Eve we sang our usual carols before the homes of our friends, and except for one mischance, owing to not knowing that the Pages had rented their house, all was symbolic of the peace and good will of the festive period. At the Pages’, however, a very unpleasant person asked us for —— sake to go away and let him sleep.
But shortly after the holidays Tish made a proposition to us, and stated that it was a portion of a plan to bring about the happiness of two young and unhappy people.
“In developing this plan,” she said, “it is essential that we all be in the best of physical condition; what I believe is known technically as in the pink. You two, for instance, must be able to walk for considerable distances, carrying a weight of some size.”
“What do you mean by ‘in the pink’?” Aggie asked suspiciously.
“What you are not,” Tish said with a certain scorn. “How many muscles have you got?”
“All I need,” said Aggie rather acidly.
“And of all you have, can you use one muscle, outside of the ordinary ones that carry you about?”
“I don’t need to.”
“Have you ever stood up, naked to the air, and felt shame at your flaccid muscles and your puny strength?”
“Really, Tish!” I protested. “I’ll walk if you insist. But I don’t have to take off my clothes and feel shame at my flabbiness to do it.”