Chapter 3

III

Two days afterward, Ann Eliza noticed that Evelina, before
they sat down to supper, pinned a crimson bow under her collar; and
when the meal was finished the younger sister, who seldom concerned
herself with the clearing of the table, set about with nervous
haste to help Ann Eliza in the removal of the dishes.

"I hate to see food mussing about," she grumbled. "Ain't it
hateful having to do everything in one room?"

"Oh, Evelina, I've always thought we was so comfortable," Ann
Eliza protested.

"Well, so we are, comfortable enough; but I don't suppose
there's any harm in my saying I wisht we had a parlour, is there?
Anyway, we might manage to buy a screen to hide the bed."

Ann Eliza coloured. There was something vaguely embarrassing
in Evelina's suggestion.

"I always think if we ask for more what we have may be taken
from us," she ventured.

"Well, whoever took it wouldn't get much," Evelina retorted
with a laugh as she swept up the table-cloth.

A few moments later the back room was in its usual flawless
order and the two sisters had seated themselves near the lamp. Ann
Eliza had taken up her sewing, and Evelina was preparing to make
artificial flowers. The sisters usually relegated this
more delicate business to the long leisure of the summer months;
but to-night Evelina had brought out the box which lay all winter
under the bed, and spread before her a bright array of muslin
petals, yellow stamens and green corollas, and a tray of little
implements curiously suggestive of the dental art. Ann Eliza made
no remark on this unusual proceeding; perhaps she guessed why, for
that evening her sister had chosen a graceful task.

Presently a knock on the outer door made them look up; but
Evelina, the first on her feet, said promptly: "Sit still. I'll
see who it is."

Ann Eliza was glad to sit still: the baby's petticoat that she
was stitching shook in her fingers.

"Sister, here's Mr. Ramy come to look at the clock," said
Evelina, a moment later, in the high drawl she cultivated before
strangers; and a shortish man with a pale bearded face and upturned
coat-collar came stiffly into the room.

Ann Eliza let her work fall as she stood up. "You're very
welcome, I'm sure, Mr. Ramy. It's real kind of you to call."

"Nod ad all, ma'am." A tendency to illustrate Grimm's law in
the interchange of his consonants betrayed the clockmaker's
nationality, but he was evidently used to speaking English, or at
least the particular branch of the vernacular with which the Bunner
sisters were familiar. "I don't like to led any clock go out of my
store without being sure it gives satisfaction," he added.

"Oh--but we were satisfied,"