Page:The Star in the Window.pdf/19

Rh bracelets, that I can recall!" she went on, making her scissors snap at the end of each phrase, "nor gold watches and chains, nor black and white silk dresses, such as this! No, sir! Not in our day!" The scissors clattered as she tossed them in the basket on the floor.

"Nor furnace heat," took up Aunt Emma in a less severe tone but still in the same strain. "Dear me! I remember I had to have my callers in the kitchen sometimes, winter nights! It didn't seem to keep them away, though."

Reba wished she hadn't spoken at all now. Would she never learn that silence, just clear, unadulterated silence, was the only way to get along with these women? They were always agreed. No one of them was ever known to take her side against the other two. It was no use to argue. She burrowed down deep into her own thoughts, and stayed there, very quiet, fearful if she made a sound that they would probe her again.

They left her alone for a while—ten minutes, perhaps. Then, "I'll be ready for those sleeves as soon as they're basted," Aunt Augusta remarked, glancing toward Reba.

"I don't believe I'll sew any more," said Reba. "My head aches a little."

"Head aches! Well, I should think it would, staring out of the window the way you do. It's time to light up anyhow."

At that suggestion Reba rose. There was a gas drop-light with a green glass shade on the center table. Silently she went about the business of lighting it, afterwards rolling her mother's chair close up beside it, and helping her aunts move their tools and