Mrs. Dunn’s pride in her offspring was unmistakable, and Hoopsy Topsy, who quite understood she was being complimented, smiled and looked happily self-conscious.
The novelty of the scene quite fascinated Marjorie. She had expected that abject poverty would leave its victims a despondent, down-hearted set of people; and instead of that she found them not only pleasant and amiable, but seemingly happy and care-free.
“My grandmother said, Mrs. Dunn,” said Marjorie, “that if you would tell me of anything you specially want she would come this afternoon and bring it to you.”
“My! ain’t she good!” said Mrs. Dunn. “Well, if she don’t mind, I’d like some old linen to wrap around the burns. You see, I am scalted pretty bad and it’ll be a while ’fore I kin get to work again. But, of course, the children are right handy, an’ ef we jest have a stove an’ a bed we can scratch along somehow. Ella, she’s more hifalutin. She’d like red plush sofys and lace curtings. But I say, ’Land, child! What’s the use of worrying? If you can’t have them things, you can’t!’ So, Ella, she makes the best of what she has, and I must say she doos have wonderful fine taste.”
Marjorie looked at the Elegant Ella, and, though she didn’t agree with Mrs. Dunn as to Ella’s taste, she felt sorry for the poor child, who wanted the refinements of life, yet was doomed to live without them.
“It is of no consequence,” said Ella, tossing her head; “we are very comfortable; and though I should like a piano, I am in no haste to procure one.”
“Lucky you ain’t,” observed her mother, “as I don’t see none runnin’ this way. What’s the matter, Dibbsy dear?”
Dibbs, who was a baby of four years, was sitting on the floor digging both his fists into his eyes. And though not audibly crying, he evidently was not entirely happy.
“Wants to know what’s in de bastick!” he announced without hesitation.
“So you shall,” declared his fond mother. “Hoopsy Topsy, lift Dibbs up so he can see what the young ladies brought.”
Nothing loath, Hoopsy Topsy lifted up her brother, who at once forgot his grief, and, smiling broadly, began to investigate the baskets.
“Land sake, Ella,” said Mrs. Dunn, “I told you to empty them baskets long ago. Whatever have you been a-doin’ all this time?”
“I was retying my sash, Ma,” exclaimed Ella, reappearing from the next room; “I think it has more of an air tied on the side.”
“Ain’t she the airy piece!” exclaimed the proud mother, looking at her daughter with undisguised admiration.
But it seemed to Molly and Marjorie that, if anything could be funnier than the Ella who first met them, it was the Ella of the retied sash!
Having arranged her finery to her satisfaction, Ella proceeded with her work of taking the things from the baskets, and, as she lifted out a large piece of cold beef, a delicious pie, some tea and sugar, and various parcels of bread and butter, and a jar of apple-sauce, the little Dunns all gathered round, quite unable to refrain from noisy expressions of glee and delight.