Both
girls were sewing heart-shaped pieces of white cloth upon squares of
turkey-red calico.
"Isn't it funny nobody seems to like her?" murmured Ellen, tossing
her head. "I shouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't let her bring
the water in, for all she says she'll pay for everything except
putting it in the houses."
Fanny gazed at the white heart in the middle of the red square.
"It's awfully hard to sew these hearts on without puckering," she
said.
"Fan," said Ellen cautiously, "does the minister go there much now?"
Fanny compressed her lips.
"I'm sure I don't know," she replied, her eyes and fingers busy with
an unruly heart, which declined to adjust itself to requirements.
"What are they going to do with this silly patchwork, anyway?"
"Make an autograph quilt for the minister's birthday; didn't you
know?"
Fanny dropped her unfinished work.
"I never heard of anything so silly!" she said sharply.
"Everybody is to write their names in pencil on these hearts,"
pursued Ellen mischievously; "then they're to be done in tracing
stitch in red cotton. In the middle of the quilt is to be a big white
square, with a large red heart in it; that's supposed to be Wesley
Elliot's. It's to have his monogram in stuffed letters, in the middle
of it. Lois Daggett's doing that now. I think it's a lovely idea--so
romantic, you know."
Fanny did not appear to be listening; her pretty white forehead wore
a frowning look.
"Ellen," she said abruptly, "do you ever see anything of Jim
nowadays?"
"Oh! so you thought you'd pay me back, did you?" cried Ellen angrily.
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