"I'd know whether 'twas a wig or not, if I saw it once," Grandmother muttered. "There ain't nobody that can fool me about false hair."
"I guess you ain't likely to see it," retorted Matilda, viciously. "All we'll ever hear about her'll be from the milk folks."
"Maybe I could see her," ventured Rosemary, cautiously. "I could put on my best white dress and go to see Mrs. Marsh, to-morrow or next day, after I get the work done up. I could find out who she was and all about her, and come back and tell you."
For an instant the stillness was intense, then both women turned to her. "You!" they said, scornfully, in the same breath.
"Yes," said Grandmother, after an impressive pause, "I reckon you'll be puttin' on your best dress and goin' up to Marshs' to see a play-actin' woman."
"You'd have lots to do," continued Aunt Matilda, "goin' to see a woman what ain't seen fit to return a call your Aunt made on her more'n five years ago."
"Humph!" Grandmother snorted.
"The very idea," exclaimed Aunt Matilda.
What had seemed to Rosemary like an open path had merely led to an insurmountable stone wall. She shrugged her shoulders good-humouredly. "Very well," she said, "I'm sure I don't care. Suit yourselves."
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