"It isn't the week for doing this closet, Amy," said Laura. "Why didn't you tell mamma so? You wanted to paint in your roses and clematis before noon, didn't you? I think it mean. Things are so contrary," and Laura sighed.
"Oh, never mind, dear! this won't be to do next week. I think mamma was displeased and spoke hastily. Mamma and I are so much alike that we understand one another. I suppose I am just the kind of girl she used to be, and I hope I'll be the kind of woman she is when I grow up. I'm imitating mother all I can."
Laura laughed. "Well, Amy, you'd never be so popular in your husband's congregation as mamma is—never. You haven't so much tact; I don't believe you'll ever have it, either."
"I haven't yet, of course; but I'd have more tact if I were a grown-up lady and married to a clergyman. I don't think, though, I'll ever marry a minister," said Amy, with grave determination, handing down a beautiful salad-bowl, which Laura received in both hands with the reverence due to a treasured possession. "It's the prettiest thing we own," said Amy, feeling the smooth satiny surface lovingly, and holding it up against her pink cheek. "Isn't it scrumptious, Laura?"
"Well," said Laura, "it's nice, but not so pretty as the tea-things which belonged to Great-aunt Judith. They are my pride. This does not compare."
"Well, perhaps not in one way, for they are family pieces, and prove we came out of the ark. But the salad-bowl is a beauty. I don't object to the care of china myself. It is ladies' work. It surprises me that people ever are willing to trust their delicate china to clumsy maids. I wouldn't if I had gems and gold like a princess, instead of being only the daughter of a poor country clergyman. I'd always wash my own nice dishes with my own fair hands."
"That shows your Southern breeding," said Laura. "Southern women always look after their china and do a good deal of the dainty part of the housekeeping. Mamma learned that when she was a little girl living in Richmond."
"'Tisn't only Southern breeding," said Amy. "Our Holland-Dutch ancestors had the same elegant ways of taking care of their property. I'm writing a paper on 'Dutch Housewifery' for the next meeting of the Granddaughters of the Revolution, and you'll find out a good many interesting points if you listen to it."
"Amy Raeburn!" exclaimed Laura, admiringly, "I expect you'll write a book one of these days."
"I certainly intend to," replied Amy, with dignity, handing down a fat Dutch cream-jug, and at the moment incautiously jarring the step-ladder, so that, cream-jug and all, she fell to the floor. Fortunately the precious pitcher escaped injury; but Amy's sleeve caught on a nail, and as she jerked it away in her fall it loosened a shelf and down crashed a whole pile of the second-best dinner plates, making a terrific noise, which startled the whole house.