Edgar, with a
resigned air. "I should certainly never wish it said that I refused a
home to any of my husband's poor relations."
"Oh, good Heavens! Let her come to us," cut in Fred sharply. "I reckon
we can take care of our 'poor relations' for a spell yet; eh, Sally?"
"Why, sure we can," retorted. Fred's wife, in her soft Southern drawl.
"We'll be right glad to take her, I reckon." And there the matter
ended.
* * * * *
Jane Pendergast had been South two months, when one day Edgar received a
letter from his brother Fred.
Jane's going North [wrote Fred]. Sally says she can't have her in the
house another week. 'Course, we don't want to tell Jane exactly that--
but we've fixed it so she's going to leave.
I'm sorry if this move causes you folks any trouble, but there just
wasn't any other way out of it. You see, Sally is Southern and easy-
going, and I suppose not over-particular in the eyes of you stiff
Northerners. I don't mind things, either, and I suppose I'm easy, too.
Well, great Scott!--Jane hadn't been down here five minutes before she
began to "slick up," as she called it--and she's been "slickin' up" ever
since. Sally always left things round handy, and so've the children; but
since Jane came, we haven't been able to find a thing when we wanted it.
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