Her mother looked at her a moment. "Which of them would you like to do without?" she asked.
"But, mother, I do want to do so many things—draw and paint, and study music, and read, and there is no time for anything but scrub and iron and bake and churn, and—" She stopped suddenly as she saw Cousin Patty in the doorway.
The next afternoon Cousin Patty and Mrs. Edmonds were seated at their sewing in the shady dining-room. Cousin Patty was a woman of much experience, and an independent fortune. She was a cousin of Mrs. Edmond's mother, and an old and tried friend. The children, however, knew her only from her letters, as her home was in a distant city, and until lately she had been closely confined at home by the care of an invalid mother.
"Cousin," said Mrs. Edmonds, "I'm puzzled to know what to do with Lettie. Haven't you noticed how fretful and impatient she is?"
"Why, I couldn't well help it," was the answer.
"I hoped she would outgrow it, but it seems rooted. Of course there is a great deal to do in such a family as ours, but her lot is no worse than the rest, and we all have good health."
"I think I can put you on a plan that will cure her," said Miss Patty, and then followed a low-toned conversation.
"Cousin tells me," said Mrs. Edmonds at the supper-table, "that she is going home on Thursday."
"Why, cousin," said Mr. Edmonds, "you should have told me sooner, that I might have sat and looked at you all the time you were here."
"I had intended to make a longer visit, but this afternoon I heard of urgent business requiring my return. Now, Benjamin, I have a proposition to make. You know I am a lonesome old maid, and as I see that Letitia is quite hampered here among so many, I think you might let her come and live with me. Of course old maids don't like children, but neither does Letitia, so we will just suit one another. You have so many you can spare one. I have won Caroline's consent if I can get yours."