She led me to speak of mother, then wondered at my vivid recollections,
since I had parted from her so young. She was very attentive as I told
how Georgia and I spoke of her when we were by ourselves, and that
friends did not let us forget her. I even cited a recent instance, when
the teacher had invited us, and two other young girls, to go to the
Vallejo pear orchard for all the fruit we wished to eat, and when he
offered the money in payment, the old Spanish gentleman in charge said,
"Pay for three."
"But we are five," said the teacher.
Then the Don blessed himself with the sign of the cross, and pointing
to Georgia and me, replied, "Those two are daughters of a sainted
mother, and are always welcome!"
At noon grandma told me that she and the Steins would be ready to go
down town immediately after dinner, and that I must wash the dishes and
finish baking the bread in the round oven. We parted in best of humor,
and I went to work. The dishes and bread received first attention. Then
I scrubbed the brick floor in the milk-house; swept the store-room and
front yard; gathered the eggs, fed the chickens, and rebuilt the fire
for supper. I fancied grandma would be pleased with all I had
accomplished, and laughed to myself as I saw the three coming home
leaning close to each other in earnest conversation.
To my surprise, the Steins went directly to their own room; and grandma
did not speak, but closed her eyes as she passed me.
Pages:
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276