The house was yet to be put in order, the wreaths must be hung in the windows, sundry baskets must be packed for distribution in the morning and sundry presents be wrapped for the butcher’s boy and the baker’s man and for James Vanderslice, the expressman. To the baker’s man Miss Mary gave a tie, to the butcher’s boy a pair of suspenders, alternating the gifts with the years, but to James Vanderslice, eagerly watched for at twilight, she gave both, and a little present of money besides.
The Arundel baby’s aunt not only came an hour late, but she stayed for an hour talking about nothing.
The aunt began presently to gossip, and Miss Mary moved uneasily in her chair. She did not like gossip or persons who repeated it. Fortunately, the baker’s horn interrupted with its loud demand, and Miss Mary asked to be excused. When she returned, she brought with her the baby’s hat and coat. Miss Mary was able to dismiss unpleasant persons without their being aware of it. She wrapped the baby up herself and tucked her into the carriage she had bought and kissed her good-by.
“She has been a good girl,” she said. “You must bring her to see me every week. When she is a little older, I will begin to teach her to read and afterwards to sew patchwork. That is the way I was brought up.”
Miss Mary remained standing, and the baby’s aunt had perforce to remain standing too.
“A child is a great care,” said she, as she raised the corner of her apron to her pale eyes.
“Not if she’s managed with system,” answered Miss Mary in her curt way. “This baby’s been very little care to me; she need be very little to you if you’re systematic.”
“I’m sure I’ll try,” said the baby’s aunt, as she wiped away more tears.
Then the baby carriage was trundled down the street. Miss Mary suffered a slight pang as she saw how cheerfully the baby went, how willing she was to associate with unattractive incompetence, and a sharper pang as she beheld the bump with which the coach took the first crossing; then she went indoors. This was her day, the happiest day of all the year; she could think no more of the Arundel baby.
Miss Mary went first of all to put the baby’s room in order. She took down the white crib and carried the pieces, one by one, into the attic. Except the bed, nothing belonging to the baby remained, since all had been sent earlier in the day to the house of the aunt. Then, with capable strokes of her strong arms, she swept the room. She had not been brought up to work of this kind, but when change of fortune made it necessary she was quick to teach herself. This morning the swift moving back and forth of the broom gave her pleasure.