"I told her she might go when
she had done her dishes after dinner," said Mrs Murchison,
"and then she had only to come back at six and get
tea--what's getting tea? I advised her to finish her
ironing yesterday, so as to be free of it today; and she
said she would be very glad to. Now, I wonder if she DID
finish it!" and Mrs Murchison put down her pan of potatoes
with a thump to look in the family clothes basket. "Not
she! Five shirts and ALL the coloured things. I call it
downright deceit!"
"I believe I know the reason she'll SAY," said Advena.
"She objects to rag carpet in her bedroom. She told me so."
"Rag carpet--upon my word!" Mrs Murchison dropped her
knife to exclaim. "It's what her betters have to do with!
I've known the day when that very piece of rag carpet--
sixty balls there were in it and every one I sewed with
my own fingers--was the best I had for my spare room,
with a bit of ingrain in the middle. Dear me!" she went
on with a smile that lightened the whole situation, "how
proud I was of that performance! She didn't tell ME she
objected to rag carpet!"
"No, Mother," Advena agreed, "she knew better."
They were all there in the kitchen, supporting their
mother, and it seems an opportunity to name them. Advena,
the eldest, stood by the long kitchen table washing the
breakfast cups in "soft" soap and hot water.
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