"Why, your things were perfectly straight, Betty," she exclaimed in
surprise. "I declare, you'll be a real old maid."
"Perhaps I shall," replied Betty, indifferently; "but if I am, I'm going to
be a tidy one."
"I never heard of one who wasn't," remarked Virginia, and added, "you've
put all your ribbons into the wrong drawer."
"I like a change," said Betty, folding up a muslin skirt.
"Oh, we'll slip en slide on de golden streets, by en bye,
little chillun,
We'll slip en slide on de golden streets, by en bye,"
sang Mammy Riah, in the adjoining room.
"Aunt Lydia found six red pinks in bloom in her window garden," observed
Virginia, cheerfully. "Why, where are you going, Betty?"
"Just for a walk," answered Betty, as she put on her bonnet and cloak. "I'm
not afraid of the cold, you know, and I'm so tired sitting still," and she
added, as she fastened her fur tippet, "I shan't be long, dear."
She opened the door, and Mammy Riah's voice followed her across the hall
and down the broad staircase:--
"Oh, we'll ride on de milk w'ite ponies, by en bye, little chillun,
We'll ride on de milk w'ite ponies, by en bye."
At the foot of the stair she called the dogs, and they came bounding
through the hall and leaped upon her as she crossed the portico. Then, as
she went down the drive and up the desolate turnpike, they ran ahead of her
with short, joyous barks.
The snow had melted and frozen again, and the long road was like a gray
river winding between leafless trees.
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