It's a
burning shame and you only twenty-one yourself. I'll pierce your
ears if you say so, and let you wear your own coral drops!"
"No, Patty; I've outgrown those longings years ago. When your
mother died and left father and you and the house to me, my
girlhood died, too, though I was only thirteen."
"It was only your inside girlhood that died," insisted Patty
stoutly, "The outside is as fresh as the paint on Uncle Barty's
new ell. You've got the loveliest eyes and hair in Riverboro, and
you know it; besides, Ivory Boynton would tell you so if you
didn't. Come and bore my ears, there's a darling!"
"Ivory Boynton never speaks a word of my looks, nor a word that
father and all the world mightn't hear." And Waitstill flushed.
"Then it's because he's shy and silent and has so many troubles
of his own that he doesn't dare say anything. When my hair is
once up and the coral pendants are swinging in my ears, I shall
expect to hear something about MY looks, I can tell you. Waity,
after all, though we never have what we want to eat, and never a
decent dress to our backs, nor a young man to cross the
threshold, I wouldn't change places with Ivory Boynton, would
you?" Here Patty swept the hearth vigorously with a turkey wing
and added a few corncobs to the fire.
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