"Well, I be! What don't they study for society folks! A different dress
for every time of the day! What would you think if you had to dress
like I do, with my calico dress on all day, only when I wear my lawn
for cool or in winter a woolen one for warm?"
Millie went off, puzzled at the ways of society.
"Is she just a servant?" asked Isabel when they heard her heavy tread
down the stairs.
"She isn't _just_ anything! She's a jewel! Mother couldn't do
without Millie. We've had her almost twenty years. We can leave
everything to her and know it will be taken care of. Why, Millie's as
much a part of the family as though she really belonged to it. When
Phil and I were little she was always baking us cookies in the shape of
men or birds, and they always had big raisin eyes. Millie's a treasure
and we all think of her as being one of the family."
"Mother says that's just the reason she won't hire any Pennsylvania
Dutch girls; they always expect to be treated as one of the family. We
have colored servants. You can teach them their place."
"I see. I suppose so," agreed Amanda, while she mentally appraised the
girl before her and thought, "Isabel Souders, a little more democracy
wouldn't be amiss for you."
Although the boarder who came to the Reist farmhouse was unlike any of
the members of the family, she soon won her way into their affections.
Her sweet tenderness, her apparent childlike innocence, appealed to the
simple, unsuspicious country folk. Shaping her actions in accordance
with the old Irish saying, "It's better to have the dogs of the street
for you than against you," Isabel made friends with Millie and went so
far as to pare potatoes for her at busy times. Philip and Uncle Amos
were non-committal beyond a mere, "Oh, I guess she's all right. Good
company, and nice to have around."
The first Sunday of the boarder's stay in the country she invited
herself to accompany the family to Mennonite church. Amanda appeared in
a simple white linen dress and a semi-tailored black hat, but when
Isabel tripped down the stairs the daughter of the house was quite
eclipsed. Isabel's dark hair was puffed out becomingly about cheeks
that had added pink applied to them. In an airy orchid organdie dress
and hat to match, white silk stockings and white buckskin pumps, she
looked ready for a garden party. According to all the ways of human
nature more than one little Mennonite maid in that meeting-house must
have cast sidelong glances at the beautiful vision, and older members
of the plain sect must have thought the old refrain, "Vanity, vanity,
all is vanity!"
Aunt Rebecca was at church that morning and came to the Reist home for
dinner. She sought out Millie in the kitchen and gave her unsolicited,
frank opinion--"My goodness, I don't think much of that there Isabel
from Lancaster! She's too much stuck up. Such a get-up for a Sunday and
church like she has on to-day! She looks like a regular peacock. It'll
go good if she don't spoil our Amanda yet till she goes home."