"There!" she said, as she finished one sock, and removing from it the
porcelain ball, held it up to view. "That is done, and it looks almost
as good as new."
Then she took another from the basket, and adjusting the ball inside,
began the darning process again, while Neil looked steadily at her. Had
Grey Jerrold been there, he would have thought her the very
personification of what a little housewifely wife should be, and would
have admired the skill with which she wove back and forth, over and
under, filling up the hole with a deftness which even his Aunt Hannah
could not have excelled. But Neil saw only her soft, girlish beauty, and
cared nothing for her deftness and thrift. In fact he was really
rebelling hotly against the whole thing--the socks, the yarn, the
porcelain ball, and more than all, the darning-needle she handled so
skillfully. What had the future Mrs. Neil McPherson to do with such
coarse things? he thought, as, forgetful of his mother's anger, he
began:
"I say, Bessie, I wish you would stop that infernal weaving back and
forth with that darning-needle, which looks so like an implement of
warfare and makes me shudder every time you jab it into the wool.
Pages:
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430