“Shelling peas, for example,” replied Phillis, roused to mischief by this: “that is mother’s work this morning. Dorothy is old and single-handed, and needs all the help we can give her. Oh, yes! I will take you to her at once.”
“Indeed you must not, if it will inconvenience her!” returned Mrs. Cheyne, drawing back a little at this. She was full of curiosity to see the mother of these singular girls, but she did not wish to have her illusion too roughly dispelled; and the notion of Mrs. Challoner’s homely employment grated a little on the feelings of the fine lady who had never done anything useful in her life.
“Oh, nothing puts mother out!” returned Phillis, in an indifferent tone. The old spirit of fun was waking up in her, and she led the way promptly to the parlor.
“Mother, Mrs. Cheyne wishes to see you,” she announced, in a most matter-of-fact voice, as though that lady were a daily visitor.
Mrs. Challoner looked up in a little surprise. One of Dorothy’s rough aprons was tied over her nice black gown, and the yellow earthenware bowl was on her lap. Phillis took up some of the green pods, and began playing with them.
“Will you excuse my rising?—you see my employment,” 195 observed Mrs. Challoner, with a smile that was almost as charming as Nan’s; and she held out a white soft hand to her visitor.
The perfect ease of her manner, the absence of all flurry, produced an instant effect on Mrs. Cheyne. For a moment she stood as though at a loss to explain her intrusion; but the next minute one of her rare sunshiny smiles crossed her face:
“I must seem impertinent; but your daughters have interested me so much that I was anxious to see their mother. But I ought to apologize for disturbing you so early.”
“Not at all; all hours are the same to me. We are always glad to see our friends: are we not, Phillis? My dear, I wish you would carry these away to Dorothy and ask her to finish them.”
“Oh, no! pray do nothing of the kind,” returned Mrs. Cheyne, eagerly. “You must not punish me in this way. Let me help you. Indeed, I am sure I can, if I only tried.” And, to Phillis’s intense amusement, Mrs. Cheyne drew off her delicate French gloves, and in another moment both ladies were seated close together, shelling peas into the same pan, and talking as though they had known each other for years.