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Spenser in Jail," which for a long time was one of their favorite games. Katy always felt badly when Aunt Izzie spoke unkindly of her poor sick friend. She had tears in her eyes now, as she walked to the gate, and looked so very sober, that Imogen Clark, who stood there waiting, clasped her hands and said: "Ah, I see! Your aristocratic Aunt refuses." Imogen's real name was Elizabeth.
"Is Aunt Izzie a 'thing?" asked Katy. Cousin Helen was glad to hear her laugh. "Yes Aunt Izzie is a thing and she has a nice pleasant handle too, if you just try to find it. And the children are 'things, also, in one sense. All their handles are different. You know human beings aren't made just alike, like red flower-pots.
So it came like a sudden and violent shock to her, when, one morning on waking up, she found old Mary crying quietly beside the bed, with her apron at her eyes. Aunt Izzie had died in the night! All their kind, penitent thoughts of her; their resolutions to please their plans for obeying her wishes and saving her trouble, were too late!
She had no Aunt Izzie to look after things, so her room soon got into a dreadful state. It was full of dust and confusion, and dirty spoons and phials of physic. She kept the blinds shut, and let her hair tangle every which way, and altogether was a dismal spectacle. "This girl had a dear old father," went on Cousin Helen, "who used to come every day and sit beside her bed.
Come out right away. I thought you were playing out-doors." "Imogen had a head-ache," faltered Katy. The three girls came out into the hall; Clover and Katy looking scared, and even the Enchanter of the Brigand quite crest-fallen. "Oh," said Aunt Izzie, grimly, "I am sorry to hear that. Probably you are bilious. Would you like some camphor or anything?" "No, thank you," replied Imogen, meekly.
She was small and wiry, and wore caps and a false front, which was just the color of a dusty Newfoundland dog's back. Her eyes were dim, and she used spectacles; but for all that, she was an excellent worker. Every one liked Miss Petingill though Aunt Izzie did once say that her tongue "was hung in the middle."
I wish your poor aunt were here to-day; that I do. How pleased she'd be?" It is doubtful whether Aunt Izzie would have been so pleased, for the lived-in look of the best parlor would have horrified her extremely; but Katy did not recollect that just then. She was touched at the genuine kindness of Mrs. Worrett's voice, and took very willingly her offered kiss.
Aunt Izzie always said that it isn't lady-like not to take a sponge-bath every morning; but how can we, with forty-eight girls in the room? I don't see what we are going to do." "I fancy we can arrange it; don't be distressed, my dear," replied Dr. Carr. And Katy was satisfied; for when papa undertook to arrange things, they were very apt to be done.
Her talk was about herself. Such stories she told about the things which had happened to her! All the young ladies in The Ledger put together, never had stranger adventures. Gradually, Katy and Clover got so interested that they left their seats and crouched down close to the sofa, listening with open mouths to these stories. Katy forgot to listen for Aunt Izzie.
Katy's hair was forever in a snarl; her gowns were always catching on nails and tearing "themselves"; and, in spite of her age and size, she was as heedless and innocent as a child of six. Katy was the longest girl that was ever seen. What she did to make herself grow so, nobody could tell; but there she was up above Papa's ear, and half a head taller than poor Aunt Izzie.
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