“Huh!” snorted Mrs. Ball. “Mary Ainslie ain't got no sperrit!” With this enigmatical statement, she sailed majestically out of the room.
During the afternoon, Ruth finished her packing, leaving out a white shirt-waist to wear to Miss Ainslie's. When she went down to the parlour to wait for Winfield, Aunt Jane appeared, with her husband in her wake.
“Ruth,” she announced, “me and James have decided on a weddin' present. I would like a fine linen table-cloth and a dozen napkins.”
“All right, Aunty.”
“And if Mr. Winfield is disposed to it, he can give me a lemonade set—one of them what has different coloured tumblers belongin' to it.”
“He'll be pleased to send it, Aunty; I know he will.”
“I'm a-layin' out to take part of them two hundred dollars what's sewed up in James's belt, and buy me a new black silk,” she went on. “I've got some real lace to trim it with, whet dames give me in the early years of our engagement. Don't you think a black silk is allers nice, Ruth?”
“Yes, it is, Aunty; and just now, it's very stylish.”
“You appear to know about such things. I guess I'll let you get it for me in the city when you buy the weddin' present. I'll give you the money, and you can get the linin's too, while you're about it.”
“I'll send you some samples, Aunty, and then you can take your choice.”