"That kite looks as real as can be, Missy."
Giggling, the girls rushed away to make ready for what Robin declared
(though she had been much hurt by Dale's refusing to come) the nicest
part of Christmas.
Belowstairs Mrs. Budge was directing Chloe with the last touches of the
Christmas feast.
"That's the prettiest cake I ever saw if I do say so," she cried,
patting the round cherry which adorned the centre of the gaily frosted
cake. Then, lest she grow cheerful, she drew a long sigh from the depths
of her bosom. "But, cake or no cake, I never thought I'd live to feed
Mill persons, coming to our table like the best people. Things plain
common. It ain't like the old days--it ain't."
"The old days are old days, Hannah Budge," rebuked Harkness, who had
come into the kitchen. "Mebbe our little lydy's ways aren't our ways but
it isn't so bad hearing the young voices and you'll admit, Mrs. Budge,
that that's a fine cake and there'd be no cake if Missy wasn't here,
now, won't you?"
"I haven't time for your philosophizing, Timothy Harkness. With things
at sixes and sevens I have enough to do!" But Mrs.
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