I told her I'd bring Gay over to-night as I was comin' by,
bein' as how she was worn out with sickness 'n' house-cleanin' 'n' one
thing 'n' nother, 'n' couldn't come to git her very well herself. I
thought mebbe you'd be willin' to pay for her clothes ruther 'n hev so
much talk 'bout it, tho' I've told everybody that they walked right in
to the front gate, 'n' you 'n' Samanthy never set eyes on 'em before,
'n' didn't know where they come from."
Samantha wiped her eyes surreptitiously with the dishcloth and turned a
scarlet face away from the window. Timothy was getting his "passle o'
chips." Gay had spied him, and toddling over to his side, holding her
dress above the prettiest little pair of feet that ever trod clover, had
sat down on him (a favorite pastime of hers), and after jolting her fat
little person up and down on his patient head, rolled herself over and
gave him a series of bear-hugs. Timothy looked pale and languid,
Samantha thought, and though Gay waited for a frolic with her most
adorable smile, he only lifted her coral necklace to kiss the place
where it hung, and tied on her sun-bonnet soberly. Samantha wished that
Vilda had been looking out of the window. Her own heart didn't need
softening, but somebody else's did, she was afraid.
"I'm much obliged to you for takin' so much interest in the children,"
said Miss Vilda primly, "and partic'lerly for clearin' our characters,
which everybody that lives in this village has to do for each other
'bout once a week, and the rest o' the time they take for spoilin' of
'em.
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