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"He said we might as well make up our minds, I tied a stockin' round his arm, but he took it off again because he said he didn't wear his stockin's no, I guess it wasn't his stockin's; it was his heart on his sleeves. But he said he was in mournin', too." Miss Theodosia gave it up. She appealed to Stefana in gentle despair. "You tell me, dear. What does she mean?"
"Funny Stefana! she goes to my heart, she and her starch when they're asleep!" But, awake, Stefana's starch went to Miss Theodosia's back and aching bones. It was three o'clock when she was ready to go to bed. Over chairs and the couch in her sitting-room, lay the three redeemed white dresses, soft again and very smoochless and smooth. Miss Theodosia stood and admired.
"The flower wagon brought Stefana roses," whispered Evangeline. "In a long box an' tissue paper. Oh, my mercy gracious, stopped right straight at our house! An' nobody dead." Evangeline's whisper rose to a weird little cry. The wonder of the flower wagon stopping right straight! And every one alive! "Stefana's countin' 'em. I guess she's counted 'em a hundred times. They's thirteen!
"Why, that's as far as there is to go. Then we came home." "Why didn't you go back and tell Stefana or Miss Theodosia? Where was your Baby Show, anyway?" "In a tent. I happened to get a peek in an' saw folks with babies, an' I was a folks with one, so I just went in. That's all. I was goin' to tell Stefana, but he cried an' I couldn't leave him.
"It's walkin'!" shrieked Evangeline, as the portentously stiff shirt staggered a little to one side. Stefana, filled with enthusiasm and generosity of soul, had starched not the bosom alone but the entire shirt. She had done it thoroughly. The result was alarming. It was a terrible shirt! "Tell me what to do somebody tell me!" entreated the little laundress.
Miss Theodosia was justly proud of herself and of Stefana; she insisted upon including Stefana in her triumphs. "Eureka!" she exulted. "Call Evangeline, Stefana, and Elly Precious, and Carruthers! Call in a Chinaman, if you like, and tell him to look at that! Ask him to beat it!" "There isn't any in this town," responded literal Stefana. "That's why Mother did bosoms.
"Yes, uncle, I was passing by and came up to see how you were getting on." The visitor was the Signora Sacco, niece of Prada and a Neapolitan by birth, her mother having quitted Milan to marry a certain Pagani, a Neapolitan banker, who had afterwards failed. Subsequent to that disaster Stefana had married Sacco, then merely a petty post-office clerk.
The Buongiovannis good heavens! the Buongiovannis why, despite all their rank and lineage and the money they still possess, it will be a great honour for them to have a handsome young man with a noble heart as their son-in-law!" Again did Stefana assume an expression of placid satisfaction. She had certainly only come there for approval.
"You've done it this time, Theodosia Baxter! When you can't bear a wrinkle! But, there, don't look so scared daughters inherit their mothers' talents, plenty of times. And you need only try it once, of course." After Stefana had gone away, doubly laden with clothes and bulky baby, Miss Theodosia remained on her porch.
They weighed an' measured 'em to see which was a Best Baby, an' Elly Precious was! You better be proud that you that you measled a Best Baby!" Miss Theodosia's glance met the Man Person's. The show was turning out well. "I've got to go back, or Stefana oh, mercy gracious me, it was worth folks bein' mad! There was a nurse there an' a lovely lady an' a doctor.
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