Here was occasion
for new embarrassment. For Rebecca Mary was honest.
"N-o'm I mean, not a LITTLE call. I've come to spend the afternoon,"
she said, slowly, "and I've brought my work."
The bundle--the great bundle--was her work! She advanced into the
room and began carefully to unroll it. It was the turn of the
minister's wife to be paralyzed. She pushed forward a chair, and
the child sat down in it.
"It's my Thousand Quilt that I'm making for Aunt 'Livia," explained
Rebecca Mary. "It's 'most done. There's a thousand pieces in it,
and I'm on the nine hundred and ninety-oneth. I thought proberly
you'd have some work, so I brought mine."
"Yes, I see--" The minister's wife stood looking down at the tight
little red figure among the gorgeous waves of the Thousand Quilt.
They eddied and surged around it in dizzy reds and purples and
greens. She was conscious of being a little seasick, and for relief
she turned back to the puzzle of the little trousers. It had been
in her mind at first to express sorrow at Rhoda's being unfortunately
away--and the boys. Now she was glad she hadn't, for it was quite
plain enough that the visitor had not come to spend the afternoon
with the minister's children, but with the minister's wife.
"It isn't she that's young--it's I," thought the minister's wife,
with kind, laughing eyes.
Pages:
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35