"We'll see, one of these days," replied auntie, with a smile that spoke volumes.
It was a very jolly dinner, and Mrs. Allen had to send for three plates of scallops; for the children found, after tasting hers, that they were very nice; all but Fly, who did not relish them, and thought it was because she did not like to eat pin-cushions.
"Now, little folks, if you have eaten sufficiently, and are thoroughly rested, shall we start for home? I think a journey to Brooklyn is about enough for one day—don't you? But you musn't leave without seeing Granny."
"Granny?"
"Yes, I call her so, and it pleases her. She has had a little table in the market for a long while, and I like to buy some of her goodies just to encourage her, for she has such a way of looking on the bright side that she wins my respect. Listen, now, while I speak to her."
Auntie's old woman had on a hood and shawl, and was curled up in a little heap, half asleep.
"Pleasant day," said Mrs. Allen, going up to the table.
"Yes, mum; nice weather underful," returned the old woman, rousing herself, and rubbing an apple with her shawl.
"And how do you do, Granny?"
"Why, is that you?" said she, the sun coming out all over her face. "And how've you been, mum, since the last time I've seen yer?"