She paused, and Grace broke in.
“Yes; I’m perfectly sure Ruth is not capable of putting on; besides, we always knew she couldn’t deceive to save her life.”
“Hush,” said mamma, as Kristy was about to speak. “Here comes Mrs. Wilson.”
Mrs. Wilson, the next door neighbor, walked in, explaining that she had come in the rain because she was all alone in her house and was lonely, and seeing Mrs. Crawford sewing by the window, thought she would bring her work and join her.
Mrs. Crawford welcomed her, but Kristy was disturbed. “Mrs. Wilson,” she began, “don’t you think a person ought to keep her promise?”
“Why, certainly,” said Mrs. Wilson.
“Kristy! Kristy!” said her mother warningly.
“I’m just going to ask Mrs. Wilson,” said Kristy, with a twinkle in her eye, “if she doesn’t think you ought to go on telling me stories, when you promised to do it as long as it rained. She likes to hear stories, too, I’m sure.”
Mrs. Wilson laughed. “Of course I do, and I shall be delighted, I’m sure. Your mother must be a master hand at the business, for I never knew such a story-lover as you, Kristy.”