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Page 38
Then, making a great ceremony of it, they began on the store material,
working twice a week now, because May was slipping along very fast, and
Mr. Pond might be there at any time. They knew pretty well how to go
ahead on this one, after the experience of their first pair, and Cousin
Ann was not much needed, except as adviser in hard places. She sat there
in the room with them, doing some sewing of her own, so quiet that half
the time they forgot she was there. It was great fun, sewing all
together and chattering as they sewed.
A good deal of the time they talked about how splendid it was of them to
be so kind to little 'Lias. "My! I don't believe most girls would put
themselves out this way for a dirty little boy!" said Stashie,
complacently.
"No INDEED!" chimed in Betsy. "It's just like a story, isn't it--working
and sacrificing for the poor!"
"I guess he'll thank us all right for sure!" said Ellen. "He'll never
forget us as long as he lives, I don't suppose."
Betsy, her imagination fired by this suggestion, said, "I guess when
he's grown up he'll be telling everybody about how, when he was so poor
and ragged, Stashie Monahan and Ellen Peters and Elizabeth Ann ..."
"And Eliza!" put in that little girl hastily, very much afraid she would
not be given her due share of the glory.
Cousin Ann sewed, and listened, and said nothing.
Toward the end of May two little blouses, two pairs of trousers, two
pairs of stockings, two sets of underwear (contributed by the teacher),
and the pair of shoes Uncle Henry gave were ready. The little girls
handled the pile of new garments with inexpressible pride, and debated
just which way of bestowing them was sufficiently grand to be worthy the
occasion. Betsy was for taking them to school and giving them to 'Lias
one by one, so that each child could have her thanks separately. But
Stashie wanted to take them to the house when 'Lias's stepfather would
be there, and shame him by showing that little girls had had to do what
he ought to have done.
Cousin Ann broke into the discussion by asking, in her quiet, firm
voice, "Why do you want 'Lias to know where the clothes come from?"
They had forgotten again that she was there, and turned around quickly
to stare at her. Nobody could think of any answer to her very queer
question. It had not occurred to any one that there could BE such a
question.
Cousin Ann shifted her ground and asked another: "Why did you make these
clothes, anyhow?"
They stared again, speechless. Why did she ask that? She knew why.
Finally little Molly said, in her honest, baby way, "Why, YOU know why,
Miss Ann! So 'Lias Brewster will look nice, and Mr. Pond will maybe
adopt him."
"Well," said Cousin Ann, "what has that got to do with 'Lias knowing who
did it?"
"Why, he wouldn't know who to be grateful to," cried Betsy.
"Oh," said Cousin Ann. "Oh, I see. You didn't do it to help 'Lias. You
did it to have him grateful to you. I see. Molly is such a little girl,
it's no wonder she didn't really take in what you girls were up to." She
nodded her head wisely, as though now she understood.
But if she did, little Molly certainly did not. She had not the least
idea what everybody was talking about. She looked from one sober,
downcast face to another rather anxiously. What was the matter?
Apparently nothing was really the matter, she decided, for after a
minute's silence Miss Ann got up with entirely her usual face of
cheerful gravity, and said: "Don't you think you little girls ought to
top off this last afternoon with a tea-party? There's a new batch of
cookies, and you can make yourselves some lemonade if you want to."
They had these refreshments out on the porch, in the sunshine, with
their dolls for guests and a great deal of chatter for sauce. Nobody
said another word about how to give the clothes to 'Lias, till, just as
the girls were going away, Betsy said, walking along with the two older
ones, "Say, don't you think it'd be fun to go some evening after dark
and leave the clothes on 'Lias's doorstep, and knock and run away quick
before anybody comes to the door?" She spoke in an uncertain voice and
smoothed Deborah's carved wooden curls.
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