marked:
"You ain't got much knack, have you? You'll have to practise quite a
spell longer before you can quilt your own house goods. How old be you?"
"Seventeen," said Patty, feeling that her work did not look very well,
considering her age.
"Seventeen!" exclaimed Mrs. Quimby. "Laws' sake, I was married when I was
sixteen, and I quilted as good then as I do now. I'm over eighty now, and
I'd ruther quilt than do anything, 'most. You don't look to be
seventeen."
"And you don't look to be eighty, either," said Patty, smiling, glad to
be able to turn the subject by complimenting the old lady.
The quilting lasted all the afternoon. Patty grew very tired of the
unaccustomed work, and was glad when Miss Bender noticed it, and told her
to run out into the garden with Bertha. Bertha was not allowed to touch
the quilt with her incompetent fingers, but Elise sewed away, thoroughly
enjoying it all, and with no desire to avail herself of Miss Bender's
permission to stop and rest. Patty and Bertha wandered through the
old-fashioned garden, in great delight. The paths were bordered with tiny
box hedges, which, though many years old, were kept clean and free from
deadwood or blemish of any sort, and were perfectly trimmed in shape.
The garden included quaint old flowers such as marigolds, sweet Williams,
bleeding hearts, bachelors' buttons, Jacob's ladder and many others of
which Patty did not even know the names. Tall hollyhocks, both single and
double, grew against the wall, and a hop vine hung in green profusion.
Every flower bed was of exact shape, and looked as if not a leaf or a
stem would dare to grow otherwise than straight and true.
"What a lovely old garden," said Patty, sniffing at a sprig of lemon
verbena which she had picked.
"Yes, it's wonderful," said Bertha. "I mean to ask Miss Bender if I
mayn't bring my camera over, and get a picture of it, and if they're
good, I'll give you one."
"Do," said Patty, "and take some pictures inside the house too. I'd like
to show them to Nan."
"Tell me about Nan," said Bertha. "She's your stepmother, isn't she?"
"Yes," said Patty, "but she's only six years older than I am, so that the
stepmother part of it seems ridiculous. We're more like sisters, and
she's perfectly crazy over old china and old furniture. She'd love Miss
Bender's things."
"Perhaps she'll come up while you're here," said Bertha. "I'll ask mother
to write for her."
"Thank you," said Patty,
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