"Good afternoon, Dolly," said one of her neighbors, coming into the back
room, and tossing off her shawl, which served the double purpose of
cloak and bonnet. "Who _is_ that pretty girl you have there in the
shop?"
"Who can she mean?" asked Dolly of Daffy, in affected surprise.
"Why," said Miss Tufts, anticipating Daffy, "that pretty creature with
the curly hair and large eyes, who is rolling up your ribbons; she is a
real beauty."
"She can't mean Rose?" asked Dolly of Daffy, looking innocent again.
(Simple Daffy, puzzled to know how Dolly wished her to answer, contented
herself with a little doubtful shake of the head.)
"Call _her_ pretty?" said Dolly, returning from a tour of observation
into the shop, as if she had not the slightest idea who was there; "call
Rose pretty. Well, I'm beat now."
"Why--don't you?" asked Miss Tufts. "I don't see how you can help it;
her hair curls so beautiful, and she has such a way with her, it took
right hold of me; her voice sounds as if a little bird was singing in
her mouth."
"Ridikilis!" said Dolly; "how you talk. Has your pa got over his
pleurisy? That's right. How do you like this ribbon? It is new style,
you see; one side is green, and the other red."
The visitor's eyes being fixed on the ribbon which she had taken to the
window to examine, Dolly took the opportunity to whisper to Daffy, "Go
tell Rose to go out of the shop into the back part of the house."
"It is a first-rate ribbon," said Miss Tufts, refolding it; "but look,
there's Mrs. Clifton going down street. She hasn't held her head up
since her baby died. How she does take it to heart, Dolly."
"Yes," said Dolly, snipping off the end of her thread, "that's the way
with those people who are always talking about 'another and a better
world.' I don't see but they hold on to this one with just as tight a
grip as other folks."
"It isn't nature not to feel bad, when a friend dies," remarked Miss
Tufts.
"Well, there's no need of making such a blubbering about it," said
Dolly. "I didn't, when our Maria died, I restrained my feelings; it is
perfectly disgusting."
"Here Daffy," said Dolly, as Miss Tufts tossed her shawl over her head,
and bade them good-by, "here's the trimmings Nancy Dawes brought for
her bonnet; it is not much matter how you put them on, she has no taste
you know; it will be all one to her, if you only tell her it is the
fashion; that is the right kind of customer for me, your knowing people
are a sight of bother, with their fussing. Daffy, mind you save me
enough of Nancy Dawes's ribbon for a bow for my neck, three quarters
will make a very decent one, but I had rather have a yard; and Daffy,
when Lawyer Grant's wife comes in to ask how much ribbon it will take to
trim her bonnet, mind that you tell her a yard extra. She has all her
ribbons from the city, and they are just the thing for neck-ribbons. She
never will know but it is all put on her bonnet, when the bows are cut
up and twisted together; she never asks no questions, there's nothing
mean about Lawyer Grant's wife; she don't mind milliners and
mantua-makers taking their little perquisites."
"Sometimes I think it isn't right," said Daffy.
"You do? that's a good one, I'd like to see your year's profits on any
other system. Why, Mrs. Bond gets all hers and her children's aprons out
of the silk, and de-laine, and thibet-cloth that ladies bring her for
dresses; it is all right enough. We must take it out some way, when
ladies beat us down to the lowest possible price for work; talk to me
about its not being right--'self-preservation is the first law of
natur,' as the Bible says."
Daffy did not dispute the questionable authority of the quotation, but
rolling the responsibility of the anticipated sin she had assumed, off
on Dolly's broad shoulders, proceeded to do her bidding.