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Updated: June 25, 2025
And she rested her elbow, covered with its blue sleeve, plump into the platter containing the beaten yolks. You must remember Ester's face-ache, but even then I regret to say that this disaster culminated in a decided box on the ear for poor Julia, and in her being sent weeping up stairs.
"It's splendid and I am sure the girls will think it can't be improved upon," she answered, adding the latter part of her speech as she handed the paper back, for Miss McMurtry was looking troubled and Ester half guessed the cause. Miss McMurtry said nothing, however, only picking up a piece of Ester's sewing. "What is this you're making, Ester?" she inquired.
Do Ester's good sense the justice of understanding that she didn't believe any such thing; that she knew it was her own conscience by which she was to be judged, not her uncle's; that such smooth-sounding arguments honestly meant that whatever her uncle offered for her entertainment she had not the moral courage to refuse.
But Sadie only laughed merrily, and said "You are growing sentimental, Ester, as sure is the world. How can I make any such promise as that? I shall probably chatter to you like a magpie instead of reading any thing." This young girl utterly ignored so far as was possible the fact of Ester's illness, never allowing it to be admitted in her presence that there were any fears as to the result.
To go to New York, to her uncle's house, to see and be with Cousin Abbie, had been the one great dream of Ester's heart as likely to be realized, she could not help acknowledging, as a journey to the moon, and no more so.
"I have found trouble sometimes in keeping myself at the right temperature even in January." Ester's cheeks glowed yet more. She understood Dr. Van Anden, and she knew her face did not look very self-controlled. No one knows what prompted Minnie to speak just then. "Aunt Sadie said Auntie Essie was cross. Were you, Auntie Essie?" The household laughed, and Sadie came to the rescue.
Ester, it needs a patch on it; there's a great hole in the middle, and it twists every way." "Patch it, then," said Ester, dryly. "Well, now I'm ready, here goes. Do you want these washed?" And she seized upon a stack of tins which stood on Ester's table. "Do let things alone!" said Ester.
"I should think so!" laughed Sadie, in answer to her mother's exclamation. "The history of the poor little fish, in brief, is this: She started, immaculate in white apron, white stockings, and the like, for the post-office, with Ester's letter.
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