)
We were, as I said, discussing the music. Mother was flitting round,
giving the final dust-off and brush-about after our early tea. Aunt
Clara was sitting quietly at the window, pretending to read Baxter's
"Saint's Rest." Jerusha and I tried to imitate the tune, and we did it,
as well as we could, and I am sure we are not bad singers. Mother
slipped out of the room just as we came to
"And vie with Gabriel, while he sings."
She ran as if something had stung her, and she was making for the
hartshorn or some fresh brook-mud. Aunt Clara's face laughed all over,
and I said:
"Come, now, Aunt Clara, you are really irreverent. You began laughing in
meeting, and you are keeping it up over that good book."
"Downright wicked," said Jerusha.
Now I am a Normal graduate, and Jerusha is not yet "finished." That will
account for the greater elegance of my expressions. Aunt Clara paid no
heed to either of us, but laughed on. The most provoking thing in the
world is a laugh that you don't understand. Here was the whole Dorcas
Society laughing through its presidentess, and Aunt Clara joining in the
laugh in meeting, and aggravating the offence by stereotyping the smirk
in her face. In came mother again, evidently afraid to stay out, and not
liking for some reason to stay in.
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