THE thought grew in Elsie’s mind, nourished by three remarks made by her mother and sisters. They were all at work except Irma, who was trying to teach Leoline to jump gracefully from her shoulder, instead of giving such a rude bound. Leoline was the cat. Irma was not apt to be at work, if the truth must be told; she was the only one of the little household who did not seem to understand the need for being industrious. She was two years older than Elsie, but the grown-up sisters often said of her that Elsie was at least three years ahead of Irma in judgment. I have sometimes thought if they had said in conscientiousness it would have been nearer the truth.
At this particular time, while Irma struggled with the cat’s education, Elsie took neat stitches in the apron she was mending, her face looking thoughtful the while. Margaret, the oldest sister, was sewing swiftly on a dress of Irma’s, setting in new sleeves, and in other ways trying to make the half-worn garment look like a new one. Nannie came in, dustpan in hand, and with a handkerchief bound about her hair to protect it from the dust, just as her mother opened the door of the kitchen, with her hands filled with soiled napkins and towels.
“Mother, where can I put that roll of matting?” Nannie asked, a touch of irritation in her voice; “I have reached the end of my resources in tucking things away. If I ever do build a house I will have all the closets I want; good-sized ones, too—and if there is any space left for rooms, there may be a few tucked in; but the closets I will have.”
Mrs. Harding sighed. “Closets are certainly very scarce in this house,” she said wearily, “as well as many other things. I don’t know what to do with the soiled clothes; we need a clothes hamper very much. There is a corner in the upper back hall where one might stand, if we had it.” The sentence ended as it had begun, with a little sigh.
Irma echoed the sigh in a sort of groan. “I saw such a pretty one, mother, last night, at Turner’s. It was only two dollars; I thought of you when I saw them unpacking it. And to think that we cannot afford even two dollars for a basket!”
“There are worse trials in life than even that, I suspect,” said Nannie, darting an angry glance at Irma, as she saw the flush spread and deepen over her mother’s face. Margaret made haste to change the subject.
“We each have our perplexities, it seems,” she said, with a light laugh; “mine has to do with dress. I don’t know what to do with that light sateen of mine; it is too gay to wear about the house at work, even if it were long enough, which it isn’t. It is not worth giving away, it is too good to throw into the rag bag, and there isn’t room for it in my closet. Now what is to be done in such a case?”
Then Elsie spoke for the first time, eagerly, a bright look flashing over her face, as though some perplexity had just then been delightfully solved. “O, Margaret! will you give the dress to me to do just what I please with?”
“To you, child! what can you do with it? It isn’t just the thing for a dollie, I should say.”
“No,” said Irma scornfully, “I should think not. Do let us have our dolls dressed in good taste and decent style, even if we cannot afford anything for ourselves.”