Dora could not suppress a start and an expression of surprise, but she
knew this must be Miriam Haverley, and advanced toward her. In a moment
she had recovered her self-possession sufficiently to introduce herself
and explain the situation. Miriam took the bottle in her left hand, and
held out her right to Dora.
"I have been expecting you would call," she said, "but I had no idea you
were here now. The door-bell is in the basement, and I have been
upstairs, trying to get dough off my hands. I have been making bread, and
I had no idea it was so troublesome to get your hands clean afterwards;
but I expect my dough is stickier than it ought to be, and after that I
was busy getting myself ready to go out and feed a calf. Will you walk
into the parlor?"
"Oh, no," cried Dora, "let me go with you to feed the calf; I shall like
that ever so much better."
"It can wait just as well as not," said Miriam; "we can sit in the hall,
if you like," and she moved toward an old-fashioned sofa which stood
against the wall; as she did so, she stepped on the front of her
voluminous silk gown, and came near falling.
Pages:
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141