"This is a s'prise party, Miz Carter," began Jane Duncannon laughing,
"We all brought our work along and can't stay but a minute, but we got
an idea an' couldn't keep it till Ladies' Aid. You got a minute to
spare? Go get your knitting and set down. Now! It's Miz'Severn's
birthday next Sat'day an' we thought 'twould be nice to get her a
present. What do you think about it?"
Mrs. Carter who had stood tensely in the doorway, her fingers whitely
gripping the woodwork, her face growing whiter every minute, suddenly
relaxed with relief in every line of her body, and bloomed into a
smile: "Oh, why, is it? Of course! What'll it be? Why, couldn't we
finish that sunburst bed quilt we started last year while she was away?
If we all get at it I think we could finish. There's some real fast
quilters in the Aid. Wait, till I get my apples to pare. I promised
Mark I'd have apple sauce for lunch!"
A quick glance went from eye to eye and a look of relief settled down
on the little company. She expected Mark home for lunch then!
They were in full tide of talk about the quilting pattern when a knock
came on the front door, and Mary Rafferty jumped up and ran to open it.
They heard the Harricutt voice, clear, sharp, incisive: "I came to sympathize--!" and then as Mary swung her face into the
sunlight the voice came suddenly up as against a stone wall with a gasp
and "Oh, it's you! Where's Mrs. Carter? I wish to see Mrs.
Carter."
"She's right back in the dining-room, Mrs. Harricutt. Come on back.
We're talking over how to celebrate Miz Severn's birthday. Do you like
a straight quilting or diamond, Miz Harricutt: It's for the sunburst
coverlet you know!"
"The sunburst coverlet!" exclaimed Mrs. Harricutt irately, as though
somehow it were an indecent subject at such a time as this, but she
followed Mary back to the dining-room with a sniff of curiosity. She
fairly gasped when she saw Mrs. Carter with her small sensitive face
bright with smiles: "Just take that chair by the window, Mrs. Harricutt," she said affably,
"and excuse me fer not getting up. I've got to get these apples
on the fire, for I promised Mark some apple sauce for lunch, and he
likes it stone cold."
Mrs. Harricutt pricked up her ears: "Oh, Mark is coming home for lunch then!" Her voice was cold,
sharp, like a steel knife dipped in lemon juice. There was a bit of a
curl on the tip of it that made one wince as it went through the soul.
Little Mrs. Carter flushed painfully under her sensitive skin, up to
the roots of her light hair. She had been pretty in her girlhood, and
Mark had her coloring in a stronger way.