“I hope what I said did not worry you, Aunt Ellen.”
“It did last night; but it don’t now,” responded Ellen, with a disagreeable laugh.
“That’s good. I should be sorry to have been the cause of your lying here fretting.” 236
“I ain’t doin’ no frettin’ now,” repeated Ellen. Then, changing a subject both seemed to regard as a delicate one, she asked in a more natural tone: “What were you plannin’ to do this mornin’?”
“Oh, just the regular things,” Lucy said cordially, glad to be once more on safer ground. “Why?”
“’Cause I’m possessed of a hankerin’ for some raspberries,” said Ellen. “I like ’em, an’ I ain’t had any for a long time. Somehow it seems as if they’d taste awful good.”
Lucy’s face lighted.
“Why, I’d be glad to try and get some for you, Aunt Ellen,” she cried. “You know I’d love to get anything you wanted if I could. I’m so pleased that you mentioned it.”
Ellen twisted her head on the pillow and began outlining the figures on the counterpane with her long, misshapen finger.
“I s’pose you couldn’t find enough for a shortcake, could you?” she ventured skeptically.