"
"There ain't any thieves hereabouts, and if there was, I guess
they wouldn't make for your sunshade; but come along. Remember to
always go up the back way; we don't use the front stairs on
account o' the carpet; take care o' the turn and don't ketch your
foot; look to your right and go in. When you've washed your face
and hands and brushed your hair you can come down, and by and by
we'll unpack your trunk and get you settled before supper. Ain't
you got your dress on hind side foremost?"
Rebecca drew her chin down and looked at the row of smoked pearl
buttons running up and down the middle of her flat little chest.
"Hind side foremost? Oh, I see! No, that's all right. If you
have seven children you can't keep buttonin' and unbuttonin' 'em
all the time--they have to do themselves. We're always buttoned
up in front at our house. Mira's only three, but she's buttoned
up in front, too."
Miranda said nothing as she closed the door, but her looks were
more eloquent than words.
Rebecca stood perfectly still in the centre of the floor and
looked about her. There was a square of oilcloth in front of each
article of furniture and a drawn-in rug beside the single four
poster, which was covered with a fringed white dimity
counterpane.
Everything was as neat as wax, but the ceilings were much higher
than Rebecca was accustomed to.
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