"I'm so sorry, little sister!" she said.
"Sorry for what?" asked the wondering Peggy.
"Because I didn't see," said Arna. "But now I'm going to bring up your
breakfast."
"Oh, no!" cried Peggy, sitting up.
"Oh, yes!" said Arna, with quiet authority. It was as dainty cooking as
Peggy's own, and Arna sat by to watch her eat.
"You're so good to me, Arna!" said Peggy.
"Not very," answered Arna, dryly. "When you've finished this you must
lie up here away from the children and read."
"But who will take care of Minna?" questioned Peggy.
"Minna's mamma," answered a voice from the next room, where Mabel was
pounding pillows. She came to the door to look in on Peggy in all her
luxury of orange marmalade to eat, Christmas books to read, and Arna to
wait upon her.
"I think mothers, not aunts, were meant to look after babies," said
Mabel. "I'm so sorry, dear!"
"Oh, I wish you two wouldn't talk like that!" cried Peggy. "I'm so
ashamed."
"All right, we'll stop talking," said Mabel quickly, "but we'll
remember."
They would not let Peggy lift her hand to any of the work that day.
Mabel managed the babies masterfully. Arna moved quietly about,
accomplishing wonders.
"But aren't you tired, Arna?" queried Peggy.
"Not a bit of it, and I'll have time to help you with your Caesar
before--"
"Before what?" asked Peggy, but got no answer.
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