"
"He would not mind; but they are not suitable for Phebe. Some of
the dresses you are done with would be more useful, if they can be
made over to fit her," answered Aunt Peace in the prudent,
moderate tone which is so trying to our feelings when we indulge
in little fits of charitable enthusiasm.
"I'd rather give her new ones, for I think she is a little bit proud and
might not like old things. If she was my sister it would do, because
sisters don't mind, but she isn't, and that makes it bad, you see. I
know how I can manage beautifully; I'll adopt her!" and Rose
looked quite radiant with this new idea.
"I'm afraid you could not do it legally till you are older, but you
might see if she likes the plan, and at any rate you can be very kind
to her, for in one sense we are all sisters, and should help one
another."
The sweet old face looked at her so kindly that Rose was fired
with a desire to settle the matter at once, and rushed away to the
kitchen, just as she was. Phebe was there, polishing up the antique
andirons so busily that she started when a voice cried out: "Smell
that, taste this, and look at me!"
Phebe sniffed attar of rose, crunched the "Lump of Delight" tucked
into her mouth, and stared with all her eyes at little Morgiana
prancing about the room like a brilliant paroquet.
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