Jim
jumped a fence and raced across lots home, and
gained on them. He burst in on his mother, sitting
on the porch, which was inclosed by wire netting
overgrown with a budding vine. It was the first
warm day of the season.
"Mother," cried Jim Patterson -- "mother, they
are coming!"
"Who, for goodness' sake, Jim?"
"Why, Arnold's aunt Flora and his aunt Dorothy
and little Lucy's aunt Martha. They are coming to
call."
Involuntarily Sally's hand went up to smooth her
pretty hair. "Well, what of it, Jim?" said she.
"Mother, they will ask for -- big sister Solly!"
Sally Patterson turned pale. "How do you
know?"
"Mother, Content has been talking at school. A
lot know. You will see they will ask for --"
"Run right in and tell Content to stay in her
room," whispered Sally, hastily, for the callers,
their white-kidded hands holding their card-cases
genteelly, were coming up the walk.
Sally advanced, smiling. She put a brave face
on the matter, but she realized that she, Sally
Patterson, who had never been a coward, was
positively afraid before this absurdity. The callers
sat with her on the pleasant porch, with the young
vine-shadows making networks over their best gowns.
Tea was served presently by the maid, and, much to
Sally's relief, before the maid appeared came the
inquiry.
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