PAGE 9
The Revolt of “Mother”
by
Nanny came home with her embroidery, and sat down with her needle-work. She had taken down her curl-papers, and there was a soft roll of fair hair like an aureole over her forehead; her face was as delicately fine and clear as porcelain. Suddenly she looked up, and the tender red flamed all over her face and neck.”Mother,” said she.
“What say?”
“I’ve been thinkin’ — I don’t see how we’re goin’ to have any — weddin’ in this room. I’d be ashamed to have his folks come if we didn’t have anybody else.”
“Mebbe we can have some new paper before then; I can put it on. I guess you won’t have no call to be ashamed of your belongin’s.”
“We might have the weddin’ in the new barn,” said Nanny, with gentle pettishness.”Why, mother, what makes you look so?”
Mrs. Penn had started, and was staring at her with a curious expression. She turned again to her work, and spread out a pattern carefully on the cloth.”Nothin’,” said she.