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Drake and Ann, they had pounced on the paper and had it spread out before their wide-open eyes. Sally-Lou was now on her feet. She had gone to the door, seen Dolly's wilting form disappear at the head of the stairs, and was now breathlessly feasting on the bewildered chagrin of the stunned mother and daughter. Ann finished reading sooner than her mother.
"I hate to bother her if she ain't up an' about" Miss Wartrace had the air of a maiden lady who had as soon chat with a bachelor as feast upon any sort of gossip "but I'm makin' me a new lawn waist, Mr. John, an' I want to ask Dolly if she'd put big or little buttons on. She has such good taste an' knows what the style is." "By all means git the right sort, Miss Sally-Lou," Webb jested.
"I'll have to see about Dolly. John's right, she ain't well she ain't oh, my Lord, I don't know what to make of it!" "I see she is sort o' upset," Miss Sally-Lou said, "an I don't wonder. I oughtn't to have sprung it so sudden-like. I'll tell you all good day. I'll have to run along. If thar's anything I kin do for Dolly just let me know.
"You needn't judge others by yourself," was the unoffended retort. "Plenty of men know the value of a good wife, if you don't." Mrs. Drake seemed not to have heard these give-and-take platitudes. She raised her sheet to the level of her eyes and creased the hem of it with her needle-pricked fingers. "What sort o' cloth are you goin' to use in your waist?" she asked. "White lawn," said Sally-Lou.
She found John near the front fence, lazily inspecting a row of beehives on a weather-beaten bench. "Think they are goin' to swarm?" Miss Sally-Lou inquired, in her most seductive tone, as she unlatched the gate and entered. "Wouldn't be a bit surprised," the bachelor returned, as he automatically touched his slouch hat. "It is time. We had fresh honey last year long 'fore this."
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